So Over It

Things about which I do not give a crap: 1) Charlie Sheen--I'm not fascinated. I'm really just thinking, "Sit down somewhere and hush up." He might as well be dancing around naked with bird poop on his head for all the dignity he's showing. 2) The royal wedding. I love a wedding. Seriously. But I don't know these people. They are not friends of mine, and their displays of excess are not interesting to me. Also, I don't know these people! Are Will and Kate going to be all captivated and hopping a plane over here when I have my totally fabulous 25th anniversary vow renewal ceremony in 15 years? Doubtful. 3) Justin Beiber. Or, as The Babydoll says, Justin Beaver. I just never got into star worship, so I don't get it. Michael Jackson was the closest I ever came to it, and come on--JB might be the bee's knees, but is he MJ? I know I'm not the right demographic, but what is it that makes him such a phenomenon? I don't get it. Post Script: I'm adding a number 4: Christians who claim that the 1950s were some utopian moment of virtue in America. I was fishing around, looking into parenting books suggested by a woman I used to know in high school. I was directed to a number of similar books. At first they seemed intersting and useful, but then I saw that they see the entire world as enemy territory, full of evil feminists and sex-crazed liberals who have ruined the clean living morality of yesterday. But all I can wonder is whether they are talking about the "Christians" who were holding signs and screaming at Ruby Bridges or the ones who thought that God hates women who have jobs. It's making me think of some very un-Christlike words.

A Perfect Skip Day

Today was the first day when it was really warm outside. It was a perfectly beautiful spring-is-coming kind of day. It was a little chilly in the morning, then warmed up to bordering-on-hot heat with the kind of breeze that the South is begging for in July. It was the kind of day, I told my students, that I would give myself permission to skip my afternoon classes when I was in college because it was just too pretty out to even think about sitting inside a classroom. I tried to get us out early today, but we still ended up using almost the entire class session. I was inside all day, with classes piled on each other, but I could tell that it was warm out because I kept seeing students with skimpier and skimpier outfits. Their toes were peeking out of sandals and the skirt hems seemed to get progressively shorter as the day wore on. They guys were wearing their coolest sunglasses and showing, ahem, appreciation, for the skin that finally escaped sweaters and boots. I knew my children would be eager to get outside, and I couldn't wait to pick them up. It was a good day.

But I will need a pedicure before I break out the sandals . . . .

An Epiphany

I had a revelation this morning: I don't think I'm going to use intravenous drugs.

Once again, the nurse at the doctor's office had a heck of a time trying to draw blood from me. They try one arm, then the other, then back to the other arm. Then they try my hands (which hurts like heck!) and then they sigh. Today, the nurse had to put the blood pressure cuff on in order to access the vein.

I'm pretty sure drug use would be too much trouble.