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My Profile
Retro-retrospection - 2008-10-06
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12:28 p.m. - 2003-05-23
Yes, a reprieve of sorts, thanks to the spectacularly cruddy weather. There was a 90% chance that today's graduation would be indoors and my SIL would be limited to two guests. Since she already had nearly a dozen people to choose from just from her own household what with the visitors and all, we really didn't need to be there. Plus Mike has a wicked bad cough and I wanted him to see the doc before the start of the holiday weekend. Sounds like he has bronchitis and the sooner the antibiotics are started the better. So I begged my SIL to lie to her brother and say graduation was DEFINITELY indoors. Mike would have insisted we go down last night otherwise, on the off, off, off chance we'd get to see SIL get her sheepskin. When Mike's sick he gets more pigheaded than usual and wasn't listening to a word I said. The no-go had to come from his sister herself. SIL came through admirably AND told her thick headed brother to take his sorry butt to the doc's. I may be his darling wife of 20 years, but SIL is Mike's big sis and she can talk him into anything. I wrangled an appointment for this morning at 10:45. Mike's there now. Thank goodness. Alex and I went to the Talent Show together last night. I had a preview of the acts while I was helping Mr. T the drama teacher choose among the hopefuls, but seeing the whole show in order with proper lighting and silly banter from the student MCs was nice. Alex's comedy act partner had a solo act as well. Ian plays the bagpipes, which for some crazy reason is regarded by his peers as The Coolest Thing Ever, and Ian opened the show with his pipes. The crowd went nuts. I thought it nice that Ian wore full Scots regalia this time. Last year he wore his kilt with a Grateful Dead t-shirt and a sporran made from a rainbow hued Rasta hat. I just love that kid, he's a loon. Alex and Ian got some big laughs doing the Python's Cheese Shop sketch. I've been trying to encourage Alex to do his own material, but he's leery of his classmates' reaction. Alex's comedy is topical, witty, and on the erudite side so when he spools a riff at the lunch table he gets a lot of blank looks. The teachers think he's a riot though. Alex is waiting for an older crowd before he does his one-man stand-up in front of an audience. Hard to draw huge laughs with a string of Dick Chaney jokes when 95% of your audience doesn't have a clue who Dick Chaney is. The show was reasonably well attended, and except for the kids a couple rows behind me who ran their mouths through the entire show, well behaved. The mom sitting next to me turned and frowned a few times, but I told her not to bother complaining to the administrators and gave her a brief version of what had happened last year when I objected to the foul mouthed twerps who screamed epithets in my ear when I had the audacity to ask them to shut up. The "ladies" were escorted from the auditorium, got a wimpy talking to by the vice-principal and were allowed to come right back in TO THE SAME SEATS and continue their shrieking and swearing. The mom gawped at me and said, "But I heard this was a GOOD school!" I laughed. Podunkville High might graduate its share of Ivy League bound students and doesn't seem to have a gang problem, but it doesn't mean the administrators are worth a diddly. In fact it's BECAUSE the school is rather elitist and upper crusty that the admins tend to be mealy mouthed wimps. When every third kid has attorneys for parents the school is as terrified of lawsuits and bad press as a horse is of snakes. I haven't said anything about my struggle to kick the smokes, but it's still going on. I'm down to less than half a pack and have been stalled at that for over a week now. The rest of my life is smoke-free, but I can't seem to write and not smoke. Only here at my computer does my nicotine center scream too loudly to think. I can drive, talk on the phone, digest a big meal, and even cool down from a wild romp with my sweetie and not give into my cravings. But my writing brain goes blank without a butt burning in my left hand. I'll conquer it and finally break the habit eventually, but I'm not thumping myself too hard right now. To scale it back from a pack and a half a day to 7 or so isn't too bad. It feels like I'm going to succeed. I've never seriously tried to quit before and was waiting for that wee bell inside. That "ding!" that says, "Okay, NOW it's time." Even those of you who've never smoked know about that bell. That soul deep knowledge that it's the right and proper time to do something; lose the weight, quit your job, say yes to the marriage proposal, whatever hard and scary thing you may have flirted with before but just never had that inner wherewithal to get the job done. That bell has sounded and I'm GOING to be a non-smoker. I just need a bit more time to wean. And I have to learn how to write without my lethal muse jump starters. Mike just called. He DOES have bronchitis and was picking up his meds as we spoke. He'll be back in a few to hie me off to lunch. Gotta go finish getting beautiful. Happy Weekend to you all! ~LA
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