LifePundit

School Starts Right as the Money Runs Out

School started yesterday with an abrupt change in schedule that I'm sure we'll all be accustomed to by Easter break. Lily gets up too early for good sense and gets fully dressed in a calculated casual indifferent sort of way -- a look that says -- I really don't care what I look like but you should see all the clothes I tried on that didn't make the cut this morning. Makeup so carefully applied as to look unmade up (Thank God!), hair blown dry to look like it dried naturally. And jeans. Always jeans. ($10 jeans from Target -- am I lucky or what?)

Anyway, she does all this in time to come down by 5:30 a.m. to wake us up by playing Reveille on the piano, then collapses on our bed because she's exhausted. (We are currently in discussions about doing the math for what time you need to go to bed in order to get eight hours of sleep before getting up at 5:00. She is never tired at night.) All I have to do is get my gym clothes on, my teeth brushed and yes, I do make her lunch just because I like to.

She's the punctual alien, the person in our family who is determined not only to be on time (not my best thing), but also to be there early. So, if she wants to be on time that badly, I take her, work out on the way home and can be at my computer at work by 9:00 -- clean, exercised, fed, horses fed, even some procrastination thrown in. It's a good thing. Except for the part where I see her running out of steam....

I miss her. It was fun to work at home and have this wonderful, interesting person at home with me. But she needed to go back to school. I was running out of money buying school supplies. No clothes. Just supplies and things to put the supplies in.

Tell me, why does an eighth grader need a $100 calculator? And how long do any of us believe she can keep up with it? Shall we take bets?

Maybe it will help her do the math on what time to go to bed in order to get enough sleep....

And how did she talk me into a Vera Bradley purse? She has to carry a purse at all times because she needs to have her Epi-Pen in case she gets exposed to nuts and goes into anaphylactic shock. I used to buy purses for her at Target and hand them to her when I got home. Now she wants to pick out her purse, and I have to admit, I don't want anybody else picking out my purse so I cooperate.

So after we looked at every purse ever made, I caved and went to the Vera Bradley store. How can those things cost so much? But I got her one, and even a couple of things to go with it. I asked her if this purchase would make her happy forever, and she said yes. Happy Forever.

So there you go. We're all Happy Forever. And very, very sleepy.

Why is Lieberman Going to Georgia?

Here's one headline from a news email I receive:

Lieberman Going with Graham to Georgia

So I think, "Huh? Is this something to do with one of them being McCain's running mate? Why would Lieberman and Graham be going to Georgia? Is something political happening in Atlanta and I've missed it, like I've missed so much else lately?"

But no, yet again I have been tricked by the Georgia/Georgia headlines. You're just supposed to know which Georgia it is. The media -- or the stylebook people -- really need to do something about this or when Russia really invades Atlanta we're not going to realize what danger we're in.

Russia invaded Georgia again? And we do nothing, because what we need to know is how's the football team doing. Russia couldn't have invaded our Georgia. Our Georgia could whoop them, because....

A little farther down this same news email is this headline:

Georgia Ranked #1

Then why are they having all this trouble with Russia? Why don't they just kick their butts?

Obviously, the media need our help in distinguishing which Georgia is which. So here are some suggestions:

Our Georgia                Their Georgia
Hot Georgia               Cold Georgia
Peach Georgia            Vodka Georgia
East Coast Georgia        Eastern Bloc Georgia
Gun-Toting Georgia        Gun-Riddled Georgia
Georgia                                The Other Georgia

Please submit your suggestions or I'll post the ones that were even worse than these.

A Reason Not to Go Back to School I'll Bet You've Never Heard

Lily doesn't want to go back to school. I guess that just means she's normal. But a few days ago my grown-up nieces asked her why she didn't want to go back to school, and Lily's answer surprised me and almost made me cry.

She said,

"I don't want to go back to school because it's my last year there and I don't want it to be over."

Her single-gender middle school magnet program has turned out to be the best decision we've ever made. She's happy and she's learning and even earning some recognition. What's more, she appreciates what she's got. As I've reported here before, she says that at her public, single-gender magnet school, "even the mean girls are nice."

Maybe this year will pass very, very slowly and she can savor every moment.

Blogging is Too Much Fun to be Permissable Procrastination Tool

Nancy, you missed me! Thank you!

I haven't been blogging for three reasons:

1. I didn't have anything nice to say, and so I didn't say anything;

2. When I wasn't whining about how nothing works in this house, I was out having fun with friends (yes, I have one or two left) or inside getting really mad at technology and putting more duct tape on my computer (figuratively speaking) because I'm not about to get a new one as long as they all come with Vista;

3. I've had a chance to "audition" to be a speech writer for a person (non-politician) for whom I'd very much like to be a speech writer. I'd like to say that I've been working non-stop to land this great gig, but I've mainly been stressing over it, losing sleep and doing acceptable procrastination activities, such as cleaning my office, doing laundry, exercising and hauling lightning-damaged electrical equipment to the dump. I also took two carloads of stuff to the church garage sale (proceeds go to Habitat). I didn't allow myself to blog because blogging is fun and nothing fun is allowed while procrastinating.

Approved procrastination activities are the things you should do every day or every week, but save them up until you have a project.

If my house is clean, my laundry is sparklingly done and my blown TVs are in the dump, you know I am procrastinating heavily.

There are others "auditioning" for the speech writer job. I sent my speech in yesterday and am not sure how I feel about it. I don't know the man, have never met him, and have only seen short clips of him on the Internet. I don't know his message or his style or what he wanted to say to this particular audience. I don't know the history or future plans of the institution he heads, though I am impressed by it. I suspect my style is too conversational and not eloquent and dignified enough, but who knows. Maybe he'll like it. I have him being humorous in several places in the speech I wrote for him, which is something entirely missing from everything else I've seen or read that he's done. He's more a "thousand points of light" kind of guy than a "did you hear the one about ....." fellow.

Still, all audiences like a little levity, and I don't think he's anti-humor. Or maybe I'm just not all that funny. Or maybe I am funny and he's not. Or maybe he'll love me because he'll love the adoration of awake, laughing audiences. Assuming he gives the speech a try and doesn't use one of my competitor's more grandiose ones that start off with stupid, convoluted structures like "Four-score and seven...." Who'd hang around and listen to that? Nothing memorable there.

Anyway, in theory, I would love this steady work and love to write speeches (especially since I don't have to give them, in case the jokes fail). But, if he doesn't feel like my style works for him, it probably wouldn't be a good fit anyway.

In the meantime, you won't believe how clean my house is.