Ruminating Slav

Ah, sweet mystery of life

Ah, sweet mystery of life, originally uploaded by *Karo*.

iGeek

What's new, pussycats? This weekend I drove down to Austin to attend my very-first Buffy Sing-a-Long, and holy crap, how much fun was that? Copious amounts of alcohol were consumed all day long, but I'm pretty sure that sitting among my people belting out, "You're the cutest of the Scoobies with your lips as red as rubies and your firm yet supple ... tight embrace!" would have been just as much fun stone-cold sober. Along similarly nerdular lines, Joss Whedon is selling himself on eBay. I plan on bidding my final paycheck, which, let's face it, might win me a glimpse of the back of Joss' head while nibbling on a cocktail weenie in the broom closet of the restaurant where the winning bidders will be wined and dined. By Joss Whedon.

So I've been watching the new Doctor Who, internets, and man alive, is it ever good. Yes, yes, go ahead and get the pointing and snickering out of your system. Rest assured that my husband sees to it that I am properly shamed every time I put on an episode. Because clearly, Mr. I-Own-Ever-Batman-Comic-Since-1962 can talk.

Are we all properly Depends-clad for tomorrow's iPhone launch? Doubly useful for both fanboy/girl squee-leaks, and for not having to leave your place in line in front of the Apple store (unless you're the chump who hired this guy, in which case, I hope he puts his shirt back on in time for the hand-off). I have called AT&T to switch my service over (promotional goodies for being a long-distance and DSL customer, don'cha know) and they're FedEx'ing me a SIM card along with a free Razr which they could not be talked out of sending. Don't think the irony of being force-fed 2004's hot cell phone for free while eagerly waiting to drop hundreds of dollars on this year's hot cell phone is lost on me. Cause it 'taint.

Good news -- daycare has been going well for Baxter! Which is good news for me since it means I don't have to spend my 12 precious free hours a week being riddled with guilt. Instead I get to do things like slog along on the treadmill and eat canned tuna fish drizzled with lemon. You got it, time for a Lifestyle Change. I have high hopes -- pounds are being dropped and self-respect is being restored. It's actually easier than I thought it would be since I'm not nearly as tempted as I would have been pre-Baxter when we went out to eat a lot more. So there you go, gentle readers, I'm putting it out there and making it official. Now the shame will keep me motivated because I hate talking about something and then not following through.

Finally, as you can see on the left, I've joined the Twitter revolution. What's that you say? The Twitter revolution was in 2006? Oh well. If I manage to get an iPhone, just imagine the inane details of my life that you'll be subjected to: "Sitting at a red light on the way to the bank!" or "Watching my kid wander around the park and pick up cigarette butts!"

I know. I can hardly wait.

Laid back off ... with my mind on my money and my money on my mind

Yesterday I drove up to work because my boss wanted to talk to me about summer projects. Turns out that summer plans involve doing the Dread Annual Report again, immediately followed by being shitcanned. Noice. Three out of the six positions in my departments (that's 50% for all you mathletes out there) are being eliminated, mine being one of the lucky three. So my advice to you, internets, is, if you want it to rain, get your car washed. And if you want to get laid off, enroll your kid in daycare so you can get more work done.

Speaking of daycare, today was introductions day over at the JCC. Songs were sung in Hebrew, and camp t-shirts were passed out. Also, tears fell copiously from the little red-rimmed eyes belonging to my son, who spent the whole hour piteously tugging on my shirt and begging, "Up! Up!" I'm not sure why he was so freaked out since he didn't know WTF was going on -- maybe because BK has taken him to the JCC a few times to work out and left him in the babysitting room there? In any case, next week is going to be quite traumatic for the little dude if today was any indication. Update: Baxter woke up from his nap with an over-103° fever, so I think I have my answer.

Yesterday I made Pecan Crusted Chicken Tenders and Salad with Tangy Maple Dressing for dinner. My first batch of tenders turned out just fine, and then all culinary hell broke loose. The oil got too hot, chicken started burning, the smoke started smoking, and the fire alarm that's connected to the security system started whoop-whoop-whooping. Whoopy! All the doors and window were open, the fans were going, and the alarm was blaring in exactly 2½ minute intervals. We finally had to call the security company and have them reset the system cause momma didn't need no 150-second reminders about what a failure she was in the kitchen.

Mongeese, it is time for me to make a public apology to Neil Patrick Harris. Some time ago I viciously maligned his television show. How wrong I was! Not only am I now a big fan of How I Met Your Mother, but I think I may have a teeny-weeny crush on Barney Stinson. Seriously, WTF? What is it with me and the fictional assholes?

buster, originally uploaded by *Karo*.

In other news, I got my news lens! And I'm in the process of switching over from iPhoto to Aperture and the steep software learning curve is hurting my soft, soft sedentary brains. And I haven't even started shooting in RAW yet, sheesh. Hey, on the bright side, I'll have something to keep me busy while I'm officially unemployed and Baxter is in daycare. What's that? You thought that come the end of July when I'm out of work I'd quit with the daycare? Hahahahahaha.

You'd be wrong.

Also, my kid hates fingerpainting with the fire of one thousand suns:

oh my god what have you done?!?!, originally uploaded by *Karo*.

I dare you to look at Baxter's expression in this photo and not cackle out loud. Dare you.