3 Down, A Billion To Go

I have completed my first three days of orientation to school.

Day 1: Awesome. My Dept. Chair gave inspirational opening remarks that made me a bit verklempt, actually. She spoke of the pride we should feel for being there - "No imposters here. We chose you," the humility we should feel for the being there - "You're here because others were not selected. Also, you are here thanks to the opportunities you have been afforded in life," (shout out to Mr. and Mrs. Numismatist) and the responsibilities we will have while there and after we finish "You will have doors open to you that others would never dream of."

Day 2: Horrifying. Starting to realize that this is at least a 4-year commitment I have just made. Am I ready to do this AGAIN?

Day 3: Meh. About teaching - but as I have not been selected to teach this semester the seminar was basically useless for my immediate needs.

So, I'll keep you posted. For those of you keeping track: Breakdowns = 1.

I Guess We'd Better Start Saving for College

Today we got the letter from Little Mr. Eris's school. This is the letter that tells us who will be his teacher for the next year. I requested Mrs. Miller (she taught there when I was a Falcon and she's the choir director - I feel strongly that Little Mr. Eris should be part of choir in his early years. A nod to the Numismatist, likely).

Anyway, as I read the letter, I laughed at the boneheads in charge of educating my child. They put him in a 5th Grade class. Um, hello? The kid is 9 years-old. That's 4th Grade. You know the one that comes after 3rd Grade (the grade he finished last year!). Then I notice the little pink note that came with the letter:

"Your student Jacob has been assigned to a fourth/fifth split class. One of the purposes of this class is to give independent learners a chance for some extended learning opportunities. Each grade will cover their core curriculum requirements, and they will also have the opportunity to broaden and deepen their learning experience beyond the basics."

I don't mean to be one of those kind of parents, but I can't stop smiling. He's smart! I am so proud!

Question

If a dog ate my marriage certificate, does this mean I can date again?

Svarnyk and Byll

Tonight was our big family night: roller skating! It was Patient Appreciation Night for our foxy orthodontist, so the skating and pizza were on the house. Well, technically we pay $210 a month for the priviledge of rolling around in a circle wearing shoes hundreds of strangers have worn previously. It was magical, but that is not the story.

As we were getting ready to go, Mr. Eris was taking the kids to the counter to cash in their prize tickets and I waited off to the side with the Littlest Ms. Eris. While waiting, I found a $1 bill! As I scanned the carpet for more cash, I saw a cigarette pack. I wasn't sure if it was empty, and I waited for a while to see if anyone would claim it. I stood there debating how badly I wanted to actually bend over and pick up this pack, three teenagers came walking by...

One of them picked up the pack, smiled, put the pack in his pocket, and walked on. I was mortified and immediately felt guilty that I hadn't picked it up before this little punk got to it. I decided to keep an eye on where he was and as soon as Mr. Eris got back I was going to ditch my kid and go after the smoker.

As luck would have it, he came back my way before Mr. Eris got back.

I looked at him and said, "Hey. That thing you put in your pocket? Gimme it." He smiled sheepishly and handed them over. Not a word of protest. What could he say? He knew he was busted.

Now for the best part. When Mr. Eris came back I waved the pack in front of him. He was puzzled, so I quickly told him the story, but not before all the kids (including our friends' kids who we had brought along for the fun) came back.

Little Mr. Eris said, "What's that?"
"Don't worryy about it," I replied.
"Are those cigarettes?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"WHY ARE YOU SMOKING?! YOU SHOULDN'T BE SMOKING!!" he yelled.

I explained the situation. Then I walked out, experiencing one of the proudest parenting moments I have ever had.

What's Your Power?

This is awesome.

I think my power would have to be that I am exceptionally loud, especially my laugh. Combine this with my general inappropriateness, and I have the uniqe ability to disturb virtually any sitation.

PS - The horse whisperer's house has a "For Sale" sign in the yard!!!!! Anyone willing to buy this house would have my eternal gratitude.

Smart People

I spent the last two days at a communication conference hosted by my department. It was my first conference. Ever.

I enjoyed it, listening to smart people using big words, most of them in an order that made it especially difficult to understand.

The reason I went was basically to brown nose. As I mentioned earlier, it was hosted by my department, and they needed volunteers to help with registration. I figured this would be a good way to get my name out there and I'd get a chance to attend the conference, too!

So, here are the highlights of the day:
1. I met a woman who has put into words my final goal: rhetorical leadership. This is the idea that communication scholars can take their research to government representatives, public entities, and anyone else who needs to communicate with the public and teach them how to effectively communicate with their various publics. Is this not awesome?!
2. I met a couple of professors from my new department. They seem nice, but they're no Duchess.
3. I met a couple of students who are entering their second year in the program. Got lots of advice and am feeling very frightened but marginally up to the challenge.
4. To the man who sat behind me at the 3:30 seminar: Please stop crinkling your paper repeatedly. It is very disturbing!! Oh, and taking your shoes off during the presentations may be super comfortable for you, but it's nauseating for those of us sitting around you. Were you raised in a barn?

I think that's all. Countdown to school: 10 days to orientation, 17 days to first day of class!

A Royal Welcome

Not to steal anyone's thunder, but just in case any of my internet family was wondering: The Duchess has a Little Lady. She's beautiful and all is well with the entire Royal Family.

Send internet love.

Meemee. Meemee mee mee meemee.

So I cut my hair again. It was a little too long after the last cut, so I called my "stylist" and had her cut it again. Really short. Like an inch long short.

I love it. It's so easy to do and it's really different.

Here's the problem: I have a very long neck and a long-ish face, so I need some width in my hair to balance me out. I have realized I look like Beaker from the Muppets with my hair this short. In a week, after it's grown in just enough, I'll be totally in love. Until then, I dare you to say I don't look just like this guy.

Bittersweet

Finished H.P. #7.
It took 36 hours.
It was perfect (including the epilogue).
Rowling is a genius.

I won't spoil anything if I tell Tomorrow and the Duchess that there are a few moments of naked Harry... aren't you just dying for the movie?

Check in when you finish - I'm ready to talk to someone about it!

Jackie and Dunlap

I stumbled across this while looking for Obama Girl on YouTube. Can you tell I'm working hard? Stick it out to the very end, there's a real gem.

These guys for president!

Should We Give Them a Symbol?

A couple of weeks ago the Numismatist asked me a question: "Why do you call the girls 'Little Mrs. and Littlest Mrs. Eris?'"

Being a lefty, communist, bra-burning, feminist, this had already been bugging me for a while, but it took my mother to fling me into action. Why was I assigning them gender roles so early in life? Why, when one of them has already displayed alternative lifestyle tendencies, am I assuming they will both be Mrs.? Also, I never check the Mrs. box when filling out a form - I always call myself Ms. - so where did the Mrs. come from?

So, in the future, you will know the gals as Little Ms. Eris and Littlest Ms. Eris. I think this will be a smooth transition to make, but I'm wondering if they should have symbols like Prince did when he changed his name...

victory

Confession: I have been cyber-stalking someone. Not in a charming way, like my interest in the Duchess's friend Tomorrow, but actively checking on someone who doesn't want me checking on them.

I am now claiming victory over this weakness. It has been quite a while since I cyber-stalked this person, and I can report that my habit of visiting the nausea-inducing website has been quashed.

Note to Nincompoop: Do whatever you want, from now on. Don't know, don't care.

It's the small victories that count in this one.

A Peek Into My Core

I feel that this pretty much explains my philosophy of life

Warning: There is a little language in here. But today, I actually agree with the language, too.

I'm Not Going to Explain This

Nincompoop.

Tagged

Screw the rules. No one left to tag, so here's my stuff.

1. When I was “little” people called me Winchell. I was fat (Numismatist, please don’t argue). I had a roll of fat around my neck that made me look like I swallowed a donut, so people called me Winchell. I kind of like it.
2. I have always dreamed of singing on Broadway. I still like to practice in my car.
3. I have had three babies with no medication during the birth. Lest you think I am some sort of granola woman who believes in an all-natural, organic birthing experience let me share this: I do not breast-feed (my breasts are strictly recreational), I watch movies through the entire labor (mostly SNL until the end when I need calm and beauty, then it’s Sense & Sensibility), and I love, love, love percocet after the birth – it’s the only reason I have babies!
4. I said the “F” word in a high school assembly. I still feel guilty about it.
5. I was a cheerleader in high school, and like the Duchess, am very proud of it. I acted like a goof, but I looked hot and it scored me Mr. Eris.
6. I do everything in patterns or even amounts. I cannot leave a list partially finished – it must be exactly half-finished or completely done. I eat M&Ms in even numbers by color order (red, yellow, green, blue, brown); if there is an odd number, I give the left-overs away. This is true of all my activities – it must be symmetrical, by height, by color, chronological, or in some sort of order that makes sense to me.
7. I actually like going to church, and I’ve liked it since I was 14. This is probably because in my family, the best way to rebel is to go to church and be a good girl, so that’s how I stuck it to my parents.
8. I bare no resemblance, whatsoever, to the family I see most. At family reunions or events in Utah, I look adopted and people can’t remember my name because they think I’m an in-law. But in California, I can be identified instantly be people who knew my family 40 years ago but have never met me. It’s rather odd.

Now, since the Duchess tagged me and the only other blogger I know – the PG Meemoo – I am changing the rules a bit. Anyone who reads this, including the Numismatist, Big Sis, Fry Sauce, etc., should comment back with at least three random facts.

I can’t wait to see where this goes…

Utah County - meh.

It's 11:53 pm. I just got home after leaving the house at 7:30 a.m. We had a big day.

First, we drove to Provo where we participated in an adopt a highway clean-up project for my favorite radio station. "We" means the whole family. Mr. Eris joined, pulling the wagon with Little and Littlest Mrs. Eris. Little Mr. Eris was also there, and he made quick friends with another Little Mr. They raced along the road to each piece of trash and talked non-stop about how awesome Pirates 3 was and how totally awesome Transformers is going to be. The girls were little troopers, and I found an old pair of men's underwear. Most importantly though, we helped the community - yay us!

After that three hour activity, we loaded back into the van and headed out for some real excitement: visiting the new IKEA. Words cannot describe this place. It's a zoo, but an organized zoo. We walked the whole store, ate at the very reasonably priced and quite tasty cafe and then the kicker - the Swedish food market. FYI, Mr. Eris spent two years in Sweden on a religiously affiliated, extended vacation, so he's in LOOOOOOOVE with the IKEA already. But now we find out they have all his favorite Swedish foods for an affordable price (unlike the snooty Scandinavian Store in Downtown SLC that charges $5 for a dang candy bar!). Mr. Eris is getting chocolate and cookies and yucky licorice treats for Father's Day. Oh, and bonus points to the IKEA for offering free diapers and wipes for parents who run out - I didn't need it, but it was nice to know it was there.

Next we decided to hit the other big draw in Utah County: Cabela's. Let me stop right here and confess that I do not enjoy shopping in stores of death. Stores with dead animals hanging on the walls and posed in "natural" scenes aren't exactly my forte. But Cabela's is supposed to be amazing, and we needed a Father's Day present for my F-I-L, who does enjoy the stores of death, so I went. Big Sister will no doubt have lots to say about this, but I really don't see the big deal. It's the same thing as Sportsman's Warehouse only with a bigger dead animal atrium in the middle. Seriously, I walked this whole store and at the end felt very unimpressed. Had the IKEA raised my expectations to unrealistic heights? Posbbily. Maybe if I had a stronger affection for camouflage?

Finally, we celebrated Father's Day with Mr. Eris's grandfather. This is an 84-year-old man on oxygen who could take any dang one of you in an arm wrestle. Seriously, he has hands like bear paws (and I should know having been up close and personal with several bear carcases earlier at Cabela's). It was a nice evening, and I came home with two handkerchiefs hand-tatted by Mr. Eris's grandmother. They will be nice keepsakes for the Little and Littlest Mrs. Eris.

So that was my day. I am so tired I can't stay awake, but my legs ache so much I can't sleep. What are ya gonna do?

At the Movies: How Tinseltown Scared the Poop Out of Little Mr. Eris

So, we went to the movies on Friday. We bought tickets a week in advance to make sure we had seats for the 8 o'clock showing of the new Pirates of the Caribbean. {The movie was alright, nowhere near the first but it had lots of action, some great moments, and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE any movie that has an Empire Strikes Back type of conclusion.}

Anywho.... during the climactic battle scene of the movie, where all the action and a lot of the plot tying up happens, lights start flashing. I look around, thinking someone was taking pictures.

Nope. Fire Alarm.

Little Mr. Eris grabs my hand and says, "We have to go." He then begins walking out, quickly. Keep in mind, this is a packed theater, and NO ONE is exiting the theater during the fire alarm.

The movie stopped.

We get out into the hall and several super-helpful employees who are waiting to clean another theater ask what the problem is. I explain the fire alarm is going off and one looks at me and says, "Oh, it's probably just a false alarm."

Thanks. That helps. "Could you maybe check it out?"

The manager asks me what the problem is, and I explain. He makes it all better by telling me they are going to rewind the movie so we didn't miss anything.

Yeah, I don't think so. We got some rainchecks.

Little Mr. Eris then became ready to go back in and finish the movie. But he is now too scared to sit in the theater. He insists that we stand next to the emergency exit for the last 20 minutes of the movie.

Interestingly, no one ever came in to inform the crowd about the fire alarm. Something like 200 people sat through the fire alarm, never moving, I assume because they didn't want to lose their seat. Does this not seem like a danger to anyone else?

PS:
Google lists no horse therapy program or Big Bear anything in Farmington or Eden, which with time and distance will probably seem a lot funnier than it does right now (although the Numismatist is already finding humor). I'll fill you in sometime in July or August. Seriously, I need time.

And finally,
Warning: Geek Alert. How in the world could they have this list and not include Heath Ledger? He's naturally beautiful, an amazing actor, and he kissed Jake Gyllenhall. Ummmm, gay cowboys...

I'm Still Laughing

Ok, so I stumbled across this and felt compelled to share. I love to sing along to these when they're on the radio.

Favorite lines:
"My left arm feels tingly."
"You have a choice: fill your gas tank or relieve the national debt."
"Or is it stalagtites?"

Happenings and Goings On:

A lot’s been happening in the land of Eris lately that I feel is of note. Let’s see, how about I go chronologically…

1. Spent the weekend in Pocatello with Meemoo, Mr. Meemoo and the little Meemoos. A lovely time. I felt particularly comfortable in Pokey because, as I understand it, Pocatello is the armpit of Idaho and I live in Ogden, the armpit of Utah. Nice little town.

2. Meemoo gave me the best gift ever: a Neil Diamond concert program from his 1992 tour purchased at the D.I. Seriously? The only way it could be better is if it were the program from the 1986 tour (Nincompoop!).

3. Saw Spiderman 3. Um, it totally rocked. Cheesy? Yes. But so are the comic books and cartoons.

4. Getting pumped to head back to work at the shoe store. I have decided (rather, the University of Utah has) that full-time employment will be necessary during my first couple of semesters of school. That being said, a high-stress job rife with deadlines and angst is not the way to go. I am opting for a job I can do in my sleep: retail middle management. Plus, I’ll be surrounded by shoes, thus helping me achieve a zen-like peace at work. BONUS!

5. Little Mr. Eris played his first big-boy little league game on Monday. He was up to bat once: walk. Then he stole second. Then he stole third. Then he stole home. Woot!

6. I mowed my lawn yesterday. No, that is not a dirty metaphor. I used a lawnmower for the first time in my life last night and I rocked! Mr. Eris is feeling a little blue, as he is now basically superfluous. I mean, now that I can mow the lawn, what essential job function does he perform? Oh, yeah. Nevermind – HE STAYS. ~Notice how that became dirty at the end?~

7. I am rocking out to Cher as I type. Dark Lady is my new theme song.

8. Eris is going to be begging the City of Ogden (referenced above) to not throw the book at her. Doggy time-out is expensive, but the misdemeanor charges, that’s where they really getcha.

9. Send internet love to Hobbes. If Donovan McNabb can make his way back, so can you, buddy!

10. Red Sox: 1st in the AL East and topping the pinstripes by 6 games. Woot-woot!

Screw the Title

I was sitting at my desk, discussing something - I'm sure it was very important - with a co-worker. Two clients came walking in, and one started talking to my "roommate" while the other stood behind me.

YANK.

My hair was in a huge clump in "Sue's" hand. She said nothing, just kept pulling. It took two co-workers to convince her to let go of my hair.

I have injured my arm somehow while trying to keep her from literally pulling my hair out. It hurts to type. There is a shooting pain from my elbow to my wrist.

work is fun