Hello Hello

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Let the record show

1. If someone ever looked at me and their eyes happened to look like this, I'd be tempted to shoot them in the face with a bazooka. If I had one handy, that is.

2. I am a very courteous, considerate driver, and have only ever given the finger to one elderly man.

3. Iceberg lettuce should be outlawed.

That is all.

7th floor lab, Ardmore Tower, Brenner Children's Hospital

Today was the youngest's clinic day in hematology. Because I make his appointments for the morning and lab doesn't come up to the ninth floor until after lunch, we had to, as always, get his blood drawn back on the seventh floor, where we had an earlier appointment still with yet another doctor.

The youngest loathes blood draws, finger pricks, and anything involving needles. He also hates stickers and Band-Aids. This means that after his finger is stuck, the phlebotomist has to hold gauze on his finger for quite some time until it stops bleeding. Usually he entertains himself and those around him by engaging in some lusty, blood-curdling screaming. Today, however, he chose to mix it up by yelling, still lustily and blood-curdlingly, "Help! Help! I'm HEMORRHAGING! I'm HEMORRHAGING!"

As the DNA source from whence he gets his dramatic bent, I was rather proud.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

BOOGA BOOGA!

I took the oldest to see that exhibit today. I skipped the coffee, though; it was a smidge too hot for coffee. Coming down Fifth Street at 3:30 PM, my car said it was 101 degrees.

In a brilliant move, I accidentally turned my car's heated driver's seat on. Did I mention the seats themselves are black leather and therefore were already retaining heat rather well from being parked in direct sunlight at the school for an hour?

I very nearly burst into flames, which pretty much would have made it The Most Awesome Day Ever to the oldest.



The exhibit rocked. Very, very much like three dimensional comic book aliens. The oldest totally loved it, as I knew he would. And his eyes lit up when he saw that the artist was selling the pieces for $300 to $500 apiece. I could almost see his little brain synapses firing, trying to figure out how to get in on that action.

Monday, May 29, 2006

I heart the Library

This morning's paper had the monthly library calendar for June in it. I immediately made a note of almost every activity on my large, family wall calendar. We won't go to everything, of course, but it's nice to know what the options are on days when it's pouring or just too hot to be outside.

I have always believed that one's choice of wall calendar says a lot about one. My wall calendar is shown below.


I adore it.

Sunday, May 28, 2006

A is for Awkward


I took the children to Miller Park today to meet the new sitter. Another family (mother, one daughter, maybe 2 years old, plus a set of grandparents) showed up and the adults began to talk about my children. WITHIN EARSHOT. WITHOUT EVEN ATTEMPTING TO LOWER VOICES OR BE DISCREET ABOUT IT.

Some of the comments were innocuous: "See? That little boy is peddling." (They wanted the little girl to peddle her trike.) But others? Not so much. "He's too old to be crying!" "Now she's not going to peddle because he stopped. Why are they allowing him to push his bike?"

The grandmother was especially horrid, nagging the child and the mother pretty much nonstop, with periodic breaks to nag the grandfather for a little variety. At one point, she was standing maybe three feet in front of the bench on which the sitter, "A", and I were sitting. And she yells at the grandfather, standing about ten feet to the left of us, "You aren't looking!" He says something to the effect of he saw whatever it was, and she says, "No you didn't! You were looking at THEM!" and, extending her arm fully, points directly in our faces.

Hi! Don't mind us!

On a happy note, next to their weirdness, our family shone as a babysitting opportunity. Like the Holy Grail of childminding situations.

And they have coffee

Reading the paper this morning, I found an article about an exhibit opening at the Werehouse, which reads in part:

"A red-eyed rhinoceros with an exposed brain wears an industrial-looking backpack that sprouts six gun muzzles.

Two dinosaur-like creatures looking like escapees from a low-budget Japanese sci-fi film face off against one another as if in mortal combat.

A little girl, wearing glasses, uses a futuristic pistol to blast open the head of an extraterrestrial wielding a ray gun.

These are some of the characters and scenes featured in Ian Dennis' occasionally gruesome but entertaining exhibition at the Werehouse's Electric Moustache Gallery, on view through June 10."

The oldest will love it.

And there's a coffeehouse in the Werehouse.

Friday, May 26, 2006

Old Salem in 90 degree weather

A friend and I took her twins and my oldest, all seven, to Old Salem this afternoon after school.

As Old Salem is "one of the most authentic and inviting living history restorations in the United States", the buildings have no air conditioning. We stayed roughly 17 minutes total.

Surprisingly I upset no one, but a man dressed in authentic and inviting living baker's garb looked pretty surly when my oldest misread the name of the Winkler Bakery as the Tinkler Bakery.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

He's dying

One of my father's oldest friends, that is. My father didn't say it outright, of course; euphemisms for death are large in the South. My father's exact words were, "They've put Vogler's on notice", Vogler's being "the" funeral home of choice here.

When I die, though, I don't want Vogler's. Vogler's was bought out by one of those corporations years ago. I want an independent. And I don't want to "die" or "pass away". I want to be "welcomed into Heaven by a choir of angels triumphant" or some such.

I also want my obituary to be as fascinating as this one, minus the mention of a murder, a sentence of death, and the embalmed body being up for public view for 18 years.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Dear Costco:

I fail to understand why my pet's cremated remains should not enjoy eternal slumber in one of your fine Cashmere Gray Marble Eternity Pet Urns for the sole reason that we live in North Carolina.

Sunday, May 21, 2006

I like HT... I like HT not... I like HT... I like HT not...

My like/hate relationship with Harris Teeter continues.

Hate
Like
Hate

Like: Harris Teeter recently ran a promotion wherein shoppers who spent more than $100 or whatever a week for a certain number of weeks, as tracked by VIC card, would receive a gardening tool set. Unfortunately, Harris Teeter didn't have nearly enough tool sets to go around. I was pretty much resigned to not receiving a blasted thing when what should appear in my mailbox but not-one-but-two $20 Harris Teeter giftcards.

The toolset would have been nice, but I'm fairly certain Target has a similar one for about $19.

So, for now, I again like Harris Teeter.

Friday, May 19, 2006

The good, the bad, and the 8 ounces

Bad news: I didn't win at the Scrabble tourney last night, though I did snag a sweet Scrabble mug. I had to run across a ballroom and snatch it off the judges' centerpiece, but whatever, I have it. Ha.

Good news: I met a potential replacement babysitter, though she is only here for the summer, and then she's off to her senior year of university. But she has a fabulous sense of humor and much energy. And she didn't flinch at three dogs.

My husband joined me after work midway through the tourney, paying the $20 observer fee to do so. The poor man had been up since 4 am and didn't seem excited by the prospect of a cold supper at home, so after the tourney we stopped in the WS Prime Steakhouse, which is now our new favorite restaurant. I cannot say enough about the incredible food and service.

I was exhausted from a long day, and opening the menu, I thought it very considerate of them to list the Weight Watcher points next to each menu item. Then I realized those were the prices, but with no unit of currency. I'm therefore considering paying 28 yen for my filet mignon next time we go.
(Please ignore the photo quality. The lighting was flattering, i.e. dim, and I was trying to be covert about using my cameraphone on the menu.)

Monday, May 15, 2006

Whee!

I'm sincerely contemplating buying a Toyota Yaris. I adore the neat look of the hatchback, in particular, in white. Like my own, personal eggmobile. And it gets up to 40 mpg! Fuel tank is 11.1 gallons, which means right now it would cost roughly $30 to power that puppy up from empty. And one would get up to 444 miles before one sputtered out.

My husband recently took my Passat in to have the oil changed. I wasn't even close to the odometer reading Jiffy Lube predicted for the time elapsed. In fact, when we did the math, we realized I had only driven 400 miles a month (versus the predicted 1000) during the last year. (OK, so my oil change was overdue if one goes by the calendar.)

So I could potentially gas up once a month. $30 a month for gas. $360 a year.

Hrmm.

Sunday, May 14, 2006

Would you like some whine with your meal?

There's a newish restaurant on Robinhood Road called River Birch Lodge. Owned by the same people that own Midtown Cafe and Dessertery, its menu is nothing exceptional. I've eaten there twice now, once for brunch and once for dinner, and been rather underwhelmed both times. Not by the decor, which is striking, but by the absolute averageness of the dishes. Solid, but very boring.

But I did notice the new screen behind the restaurant's outdoor seating area when it went up, and thought it fetching and effective at shielding the diners and the parking lot from one another. Apparently, the Winston-Salem Journal thought so, too, as they did an article on the artist who made the screen. An article which is nice and sweet, although a mite twee, until one gets to the following line:

The blind is just one of several things that Noblitt has done to "rusticate" River Birch, making thousands of dollars in the process, said Eddie Schapira, one of the restaurant's co-owners.

I'm sorry? Did anyone actually assume she did it for free? Someone sounds a mite bitter about her garnering both money and an article for her work.

Get over it, Mr. Schapira, and move on. Work on your plodding dishes.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

The stripes were tomato red; they matched my face.

When I got dressed this morning, I knew I looked good. My fave jeans, fab shoes, and a sweet fitted blouse with very cool vertical stripes, 3/4 sleeves, and a jaunty collar. The blouse was very feminine cut and snapfront, with the snaps starting just above the top of the center of my bra. I wore my hair down and sunglasses that matched the color of the stripe.

While the youngest was in preschool, I strutted around not one but two Dollar Stores, looking good. I picked up my babe from school, knowing my good looks contrasted sharply with the sweatsuit Mommies and comfy Mommies. When wee lad asked to go to Starbucks for "ice cream milk", I was happy to accomodate him and spread my good looks around there as well.

And I looked good, damn good, as I ordered. I looked good, damn good, as I drank my mocha and chatted with the child. In fact, I looked good, damn good, up until the moment we were leaving and, in the direct line of vision of every person in the store, wee lad demanded I pick him up and grabbed the lapel of my blouse. Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop. Rapid-fire. And suddenly I was standing in Starbucks in my bra, my blouse acting as nothing more than a backdrop for it.

Hereafter, I will be taking my coffee elsewhere.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Gotta go gotta go gotta go gotta go

WARNING: Southern Woman Blasphemy Ahead

The following need to be done away with:

1. Crocs, which are the new Jellies. Incredibly hideous and available in far too many colors.

2. Adult clothing in Lilly Pulitzer prints. You don't look young; you look like a discarded sofa in an overly tanned aunt's Florida room.

3. Poodles. Incredibly hideous and available in far too many colors.

4. Embellished clothing All of Steinmart.

I've seen all four today. The Crocs in at least six colors. Gag.

Monday, May 08, 2006

Hello, friend

My ongoing campaign to become the most reviled woman in Forsyth County:

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Exhibit C

Today, I submit Exhibit D:

So I used my cellphone to take a picture of one of the dogs pooping dead center on the back lawn, which practice has been a sore spot around here recently. And then I tried to use the stinking phone to send the picture to a friend with whom I had discussed this a few days ago. I was pretty sure I remembered her cell phone number so I typed it in and sent it.

When I got home, I checked my caller ID and realized that her number was completely NOT the one I sent it to. I sent it to a cell phone, all right, but it sure wasn't hers.

Apparently I sent the damn dog mid-poop pic to a stranger's Cingular cell phone. Who has my number but hasn't responded. Please God let him/her never respond.

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Good grief

"I can't help it. I was created this way. And this is my gift. And I love it. So you should love it."

- the oldest, at a cafe last night, on being admonished for belching loudly enough to wake the dead

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

(beaming)

Ahem.

My seven year old son's artwork is being presented at the DADA, at 522 N. Liberty Street, this Friday night from 7-10 pm. It will remain on display there through the 11th. His art teacher made the selection.

I'm so proud I can't stand it.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

I voted

Did you? If you live in Forsyth County, the answer's probably, "No." The voter turnout was pathetic, as far as I can tell. The oldest child came with me to our local voting station at about 3:45 PM, and they still hadn't reached even 200 voters yet.

On a happy note, that gave the election officials plenty of time to explain to the oldest the actual logistics of voting. He loved it. And I believe the "I voted" sticker will be going to the next show-and-tell. I hope he shares with his class the thought one of the election officials had when I commented that I found the low voter turnout disheartening.

"If you don't vote, don't complain later!"