Friday, August 29, 2008

Congratulations to Sarah Palin

John McCain's nobody's fool. Sarah Palin is an phenomenal choice. Frankly, I wasn't sure he would have the guts, but I should have known better. John McCain has never lacked for guts.

I heard about Sarah Palin a few years ago as one of the few Republicans who retained a governorship for the party. But she didn't retain it as an incumbent. She ran against the corrupt former Republican governor as a Republican and secured the nomination. Then she went on to beat the Democrat nominee. What really stood out about her though, was that she refused federal money for an unnecessary bridge project in Alaska. Politicians talk about reducing spending, but put her money where her mouth was and actually did.


I'm so excited. There is a very good chance McCain could win. This isn't a nomination made in an unwinnable election to throw a bone to a particular voting block like Geraldine Ferraro's was. This is the real deal. And the best part for me is that she got the nomination based on her qualifications as a leader, not her gender. But I am going to thoroughly enjoy voting for the ticket with the girl on it. More than I ever thought I would.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Meet the Principal or "That was some mighty fine a pickin' and a singin'"

I took the girls to their school for "Meet the Teacher" night, and we ran into their principal.

I don't remember if I've blogged about their principal before, but I have the biggest crush on him in the entire world.  He plays banjo in a bluegrass band.  I don't think I need explain myself further.
We saw him play once last year at this little restaurant.  It was so very cool.
He remembered Gwennie and Emma and even remembered what grades they were going into.  I asked him, giggling (and managing to refrain from rubbing myself salaciously) if he was still playing the banjo.  He said he wasn't playing as much, but he was still playing once a month at the little restaurant where we saw him last (which he remembered).
I giggled again and said we would be seeing him there and left with the girls before I started shining his shoes with my nether regions.  I think it would have set a bad example.
And a former blogger with whom Jethro and are are friends told me about a band called "The Gourds" who have done a cover of.... well see for yourself.
Apparently it's been out for a couple of years, but I hadn't heard it.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

One of My Projects


One of my better ones, I think.  Keep in mind, I only have a few days and a limited amount of time within those days to get these projects done.

This one was an ad for a spa.  I made one up.  There's an odd white square at the top under the first diamond that isn't supposed to be there, but other than that...

So if I have any readers left, I'd be happy for opinions.

Update: There are also lines between the diamonds that weren't there originally either.  I'm guessing when I go from format to format things get a little skewered.  Basically the green square and the surrounding white is supposed to be solid.

Friday, August 15, 2008

I thought I've done a pretty good job informing my children about the various parts of the body. Even the naughty parts. We call them "the naughty parts."

But I was listening to them the other day playing a video game where they have to shoot paint at a gorilla tied to a wheel that spins (don't ask). After awhile, I heard Emma cackle and announce that she "got him in the vagina."

It seems I haven't done a very good job. But I did shriek with laughter.

Monday, August 11, 2008

The Vastness of Possibility

So let me just tell you about my husband and why he is going to get the best blowjob my small jaw, jagged teeth, and hyper gag-reflex can manage.

He bought me a MacBook. It is the sweetest little laptop in the entire world and I love it like a puppy.

But even better, he got me all the programs I need for my classes so I can do my work anywhere. The possibilities are limitless, especially after the girls are back in school.

I can go to Barnes and Noble. I can go to coffee shops. I can go to a hookah bar that offers free wifi. I can go to the gym and hang out by the pool. I can now even go to the clinic all day with Jethro.

The reality, however, is that I am probably now going to open my eyes in the morning, hoist up the Mac and not arise until I am at least 15 minutes late for class. And on my days off, I might make the extra effort of venturing from my bear cave of a boudoir to sit with it in front of the television in my new round chair.

Ennui and all.

Friday, August 08, 2008

Two Americas: Those Who Have Fathers and Those Who Don't

So while I will maintain there is a slight possibility this is all a ploy to make John Edwards appear to be heterosexual, it seems he did, indeed, make time with the ageing social climber and novice filmmaker, Ms. Rielle Hunter.

However, he denies fathering her child even though he hasn't taken a paternity test.

Now this is not smart on his part. He cheated on his cancer-stricken wife, lied repeatedly about the affair, damaged his political party, and destroyed his chances for the VP slot (not that I care remotely about the last two).

The only good thing to come out of this is the baby. And he takes the lowest of all possible roads by denying paternity without taking a test. What a leader. What an example for all the young men out there who find themselves in similar circumstances.

The only thing that could have redeemed him (given that an admission was necessary) was if he waited until he had DNA evidence one way or another, admitted the affair, and claimed his child publicly if it was positive. If he is not the father, then at least he would have proven that he did the responsible thing.

Fathering a child outside of your marriage is not recommendable, but it's not the worst thing in the entire world. Being a worm and not bothering to find out if you are the father, or denying paternity when you know, is exponentially worse. And still worse would be to let someone else cloak your sins (Andrew Young, a former campaign aide, who is married with 3 of his own children, has said he was the father).

He really is a scumbag. A pretty, fluffy little scumbag, but a scumbag, nonetheless.

H/T: Blonde Sagacity (who smelled the news story when it was just a twinkle on the pages of the National Enquirer, and the MSM was reaching new levels of journalistic depravity by demanding it not be investigated).

Friday, August 01, 2008

School Days

I take a class on Friday mornings now beginning at 8:30 am. It's a little exhausting because I have a class on Thursday evenings until 10:30 pm. But I like the class on Friday mornings. There aren't many people around and the atmosphere is much more laid back.

However, there is a guy in the class who I kind of want to destroy. He is really irritating. I'll call him Fess.

Fess started school the same term I did, and annoyed me the first minute of the first class I ever had with him by asking to partner up with two of the smart guys for one of the group projects, leaving me stuck with an ignoramus and a pothead. The only good thing about it is that I wasn't stuck with him.

He's a goofy looking white guy who wears a baseball hat constantly, has bad teeth and something like 13 dogs. He's married to a woman who was kicked in the head, and fancies himself a photographer. He is always interrupting class to talk about his photography, which isn't good. I want to brain him.

Once he had a hacky sack thrown playfully at him by a kid in the class just because he was talking so incessantly. The instructor was not pleased by the incident and severely reprimanded the kid who threw it. Instead of being a dude and telling her it was no big deal, Fess started making pouty faces and rubbing his head, trying to elicit more sympathy.

Another time, I was having trouble with the computer I was on, and he, unasked, came up and tried to give me advice, even going so far as to TOUCH MY MOUSE!!!!! I realize I am not a fast user of Photoshop yet, but I still manage to do better stuff than he does. He has no artistic talent at all, not even as a hack, and he's really the last person I want advice from.

Unfortunately, he is in my Friday class and bothers me constantly because I'm the only girl.

Slight digression: What is it with guys compulsively trying to impress women? None of the guys in that class ask what any of the other guys think of their work. They ask me. Or rather, they demand that I come look at their stuff and praise it. I wish I could say they were barking up the wrong tree and that I'm honest, but I can't. I usually just say 'very cool' and walk away, even when I hate it. Boys are weird.

Anyway, the project for this class is a package design. We start out with a template for a box, and then design the logo and label for the product package. I haven't decided what I'm going to do, but I made a great template for the type of box I want - an elongated trapezoid. I had just finished, when Fess wandered over after talking at great length about doing box for birdseed in the shape of a birdhouse. "Oh! Cool box! Would you email me that template? I have an idea for it."

"I hope it's for another class," I said apprehensively.

He grinned sheepishly. "Well, I can't find a template for a birdhouse."

"Have you googled 'birdhouse template?'"

"No....."

"Well might I suggest you try? I don't want you doing the same one I'm doing. At least not for this project."

"Okay."

He shuffled off.

But of all the nerve!

On break, he went to go find me to tell me how tired he was, and when I asked him why out of pure etiquette, he told me that he and his wife had engaged in extra-marital activities until midnight the previous evening.

I was pretty sure he was trying to mimic my unusual turn-of-phrase, which sometimes leads to uneducated people saying things like 'extra-marital activities' when they just mean regular old sex with their spouse.

"Midnight, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, chuckling foolishly.

"You better take it easy there, cowboy. You need your beauty sleep. Badly."

He then proceeded to tell me about how most men's sex drives wither after they turn 23 (23?), but how he's goin' strong.

Now I'm not squeamish about sex, but thinking of him in his goofy hat, making love to a woman who was kicked in the head gave me funny feelings that might, in weaker people, lead to a desire for humiliating and deviant acts of sexual congress and cravings for canned meat. Or something equivalently uncomfortable.

Anyway, he is a weirdo, and a hack, and a total annoyance, but as I've just discovered, kind of fun to blog about.