Babysitting Blues

I began my duty of babysitting once a week last Thursday. It was pretty uneventful until the projectile vomitting occurred. It's not really all that nasty since it's just milk, but boy does she have some range on her. At one point I was moving her from her swing to the couch and she threw her head back and spit up all over her head, in her ears, on her eyeballs, etc. It wasn't pretty.

She began daycare yesterday, and it so happens that the daycare is in the church where my dad works. So he of course spends most of his day down there with her. With it being the first grandchild, he can't get enough. We all have to fight him off for a chance to hold her whenever he's around.

But my parents are convinced that she's a genius. She turned 7 weeks old today, and at 6 weeks she was laughing and mimicking us. If we stick out our tongues, she'll do the same. It's really cute. She also tries to talk to you but of course only makes gurgling sounds. But she follows you around the room with her eyes, and when you sit and watch her she "talks". We'll see what the new developments are when I babysit this Thurs.

Unorthodox Reunions

I was talking to my uncle on Sunday, just before he was to officiate for my great aunt's funeral. I wasn't that close to this aunt and hadn't seen her in probably 10 years, even though we live in the same town. My mother commented that funerals are turning into more of a family reunion (which is again sad because she hadn't seen her cousins since the last funeral in March, even though (again) we all live in the same town.) My uncle commented that we've been doing the funeral thing too much lately, and I got to thinking. Since December of 2002 I have lost a grandmother (stroke), a first cousin (car accident), an uncle (ALS), a step-uncle (esophogeal cancer), 2 uncles-in-law (colon cancer and a heart attack) and the aforementioned great aunt. I guess I thought my funeral attendances would spike more in my early 40s than in my 20s.

It's Elementary

For some odd reason, I feel the urge to stop by the store on the way home and buy a coloring book and crayons. I feel the need to color. Granted, I'm a perfectionist and I hate coloring because as soon as I make a mistake, I start on a new page. But the urge is there.

Actually, what I need to do is start working on my Christmas ornament crafts. I have some wooden ones that need painted (though the paint is missing) and some felt ones that need assembled. Though those take roughly 3 hours to cut out one piece of felt and stitch it on to another piece of felt. And I'm not exactly the queen of patience these days. Or ever for that matter.

Turkey Travel

On the news yesterday:

"The Wednesday before Thanksgiving is the busiest travel day of the year so be careful traveling to your destination."

And 3 sentences later:

"And also be careful coming back on Sunday, since historically Sunday tends to be an even busier travel day than Wednesday."

Basketbrawl Wrapup

Last comments on the Pacers/Pistons situation, I promise. Unless someone else does something incredibly stupid and I feel the urge to comment.

A Pistons fan who was injured by a thrown chair is suing the Pacers organization for his injuries. Umm, sir, it was a Pistons fan who threw the chair (at O'Neil's head nonetheless) during a Pistons game in a Pistons arena where either the arena or the Pistons organizations failed to provide adequate security and failed to secure the chairs in a Post-Bobby Knight era which proved that chair throwing was possible. I believe you're looking to the wrong organization for money. Unless of course you factor in that you have to sue in a Michigan court and you're more likely to get a jury to hold an Indiana organization responsible than a Michigan one. But there I go being cynical of the legal system again.

As far as Artest goes, I wish he was biding by some sort of "no comment" philosophy. Every time he opens his mouth he says something stupid. For the record, I was one of the people who thought the Pacers should have traded him back in his first season. But they never listen to me.

And finally, the fan who threw the beer that started the whole thing was on Larry King last night. I didn't see the whole interview, just clips of it on the news. At one point he said that once Artest was in the stands, he (the fan) was simply trying to help Artest get back out before he got injured. Hmm, is that why the fan was throwing sucker punches at him from behind? Then he said that he wants Artest back in this season or the game won't be the same. Perhaps he's saying such nice things because its his 15 minutes of fame and he's aware of the legal consequences lingering over his head.

Chick Lit

In my quest for finding light holiday reading, I've ran across this site: chicklitbooks.com. So much easier than browsing amazon for decent chick books.

I reserve final judgment until after I've read one of these books and agreed with their assessment.

I also reserve the right to delete any comment made by Chuck insulting my taste in literature.

*Sniffle*

I've managed to waltz myself into a cold, or a sinus infection over the weekend. Don't know which it is, but it doesn't matter either way. Some people are lousy drunks. I'm a lousy sick person. Unlike some people (ahem... you know who you are...) I can't stay attentive and perky even though I feel like crap. Instead, I want everyone to know I'm sick and feel bad for me. I can't take my mind off of it, instead it's 24 hours of thinking that I'm sick and what I should be doing to get better. And I just want to crawl into bed with my favorite new pajamas and a good book and sip on hot tea.

And I'm sure my classmates appreciate my constant sniveling, nose-wiping, random sneezes, and one-nostril breathing. All day I've been surrounded by a stack of Kleenexes or a wad of toilet paper to be utilized at a moment's notice. (FYI: school issue toilet paper isn't nearly as nice as Kleenex with lotion.) Though I should be glad it's now and not during finals. Supposing that this will be gone by finals.

Throwing Punches

We flipped the channel to catch the last 5 minutes of the Pacers game, and caught more than an eyeful of action. Having seen the whole thing play out live, and then multiple times in replay, I have no hesitation placing a great deal of the blame on the unruly Pistons fans. This doesn't mean I justify or approve of the Pacers actions, but the actions of the fans were not only immature and unnecessary, they were also dangerous.

When it first started, I was actually impressed with how Artest took himself out of the situation by laying down on the scorer's bench, and how Reggie seemed to be sitting on top of him to make sure he behaved himself. Then it turned ugly and Artest and others were in the stands. That part of the incident I can sympathize with, especially as it seemed the players took more of a beating than any of the fans. As the ESPN guys pointed out, there are only 12 players and coaches and there are 20,000 plus fans, and you've got to expect a player to defend himself.

The part where I think the Pacers stepped over the line is when Artest punched a fan on the floor, and then O'Neal followed. Up till that point, their actions had been in response to physical action taken against them. Those final punches seemed to only be provoked by verbalizations. [It's interesting to me that while watching Sportscenter, the commentators actually think this is the least controversial part of the incident. One actually said that the fans who came onto the court deserve what they got. Presumably their argument is that if you enter the floor, it's players' territory, and to confront a player who already a victim of his emotions is just plain stupidity.]

While I'm no sports analyst, at the end of the night I think those fans should be ashamed of themselves for behaving so poorly. I mean, throwing chairs at players and into crowds of other fans. Grow up. And the players, lets keep our hands and fists to ourselves. It will be interesting to see how the criminal investigation (and let's face it, civil ones) play out.

Heidi will now be posting under the psuedonym Cilantro.

I'm reading a book and on the inside cover it says "Wendy Markham is a psuedonym for the New York Times best selling author..." then whatever her real name is. Can someone explain to me why you write under an assumed name, and then tell everyone it's still you? It's like Garth Brooks creating an album under the name Chris Gains, or Nora Roberts writing as J.D. Robb. I understand some people say it's because they want to do a different genre or style, but wouldn't you want to trade on your established name? It's still you, and you're not ashamed about telling everyone it's still you so why create this fake persona?

Twin Minds

As some of you know, my sister is only 18 months older than me, and we spent most of our childhood prancing around the neighborhood in matching or coordinating outfits. It was seriously like I was my sister's mini-me. But what sucked more was that I not only had to wear the outfit once (when it was my outfit) as I grew older I had to wear her outfit too. It wasn't too traumatizing for a girl who wanted to be exactly like her sister.

The scary part was that as we grew older, we grew to look more and more alike. People have often told us we look like twins, and have gotten us mixed up even when we're standing together. She used to be the one with long hair, and I with short, though there were some misguided attempts on my part to have long hair that made it confusing. Now she's cut off her hair, and we're back to being twins.

Yesterday, she and my brother in law and my niece came over for dinner. I had been partaking in my favorite Sunday pasttime, (which as most know is napping) and by the time I woke up, I was hardly presentable. I had on one of the most comfortable outfits I own, which means that it is entirely inappropriate to wear in public. I swear Clinton and Stacie would shoot me for that. So it doesn't leave the house.

It was only halfway through dinner before I noticed that she and I looked like dorks. I had on my Veggie Tales Larry shirt and she had on her Veggie Tales Bob shirt and we were both wearing black pants with white stripes down the side.

I swear, we haven't lived in the same house in years, and yet we do things like this all the time. It's like that wierd twin connection, only we're not twins. Maybe it has to do with growing up in the same environment. Or maybe it's just that we both own the shirts since our parents bought them for us. Whichever, it's still a bit freaky for my taste.

Behind the times.

My parents are quite the un-hip parents of the decade. God love them, but they don't keep up with anything culturally, socially, and especially, musically. My dad still believes Bobby Darin is what music should really be. Tonight while watching the AMA's, my mother was shocked to learn what ODB really stood for. And minutes later, Outkast was accepting an award, and they thanked God, which prompted my dad to ask if they were a Christian band. Maybe I'll let him borrow the CD and see for himself.

Searching

Someone got to my site by searching for "friend's sister guage babysit video porn." My thoughts:
1. Ewww.
2. I don't think I've ever included the word porn in a post.
3. Why is my site the first result?
4. Could this search consist of any more random words? Someone needs to learn how to properly google.

Job Inopportunity

CNN is reporting that CBS has fired the producer who decided to cut into CSI:NY to air the breaking news that Arafat had died instead of waiting 5 more minutes to air it during the news hour. For those not fans of CSI:NY, the breaking news segment started just at the point where they were resolving the case, and ended as they did previews for next week. Apparently people were so upset (my brother included) that CBS had to re-air the episode in its entirety tonight. I'm hoping that more played into it and it wasn't just that one decision that got this guy fired.

Where's your line?

Where do you draw the line when you're late for class and must decide whether to walk in late or just miss it altogether? The latest I've ever walked into a class was 15 minutes late, but it was a day where my hour commute turned into a 2 1/2 hour commute because of snow and ice. So I felt justified. But I don't think I'd come into a class more than 10 minutes late unless I felt that others were going to be late as well. It just seems disruptive to me.

I bring up this question because a classmate is consistently 20-25 minutes late for an hour and forty minute class. It happens with such frequency that I'm beginning to think that this classmate has something else scheduled during class. Which begs the question, why not just take classes when you have free time? [But then again, maybe there is a valid excuse and I'm being judgmental.]

Actually, what sparked this thought was a girl who walked into my 2 hour class at the hour and forty minute mark. She came into the room, set her stuff down, and then walked out. At first I thought, why come into class with only 20 minutes left if you're just going leave? When she never returned, I realized that she wasn't in fact late to class, but felt that she needed to come set her stuff down before her next class. While our class was still going. Either she didn't notice, or she didn't care.

I've got you under my skin.

Ok, I'm warning you, do not read this post if you are at all squeamish, or especially if you're eating at the moment. It's especially disgusting, and since someone just told me, I felt the urge to share.

My brother's cat developed a lump on his back the past few days. I looked at it and could find a puncture wound that had scabbed over. My mom and my brother believed that one of the cats had bitten him and it had swelled or gotten infected. I convinced my brother to take the cat to the vet today, and he found out it wasn't a cat bite. Apparently the cat had been bitten by either a fly or a spider, and said insect laid it's eggs under his skin, and when it hatched, it crawled out leaving a hole, which got infected. (I actually think I saw this once in a movie, only the spider had done it on some girls cheek and the sac burst and she had all sorts of little spiders crawling all over her face. Scarred me for life.) The lump was the size of a golf ball, and was essentially a boil which barely made it to the vet's office before it burst. But the vet apparently has cleaned it out, and the cat is on antibiotics to control the infection.

My mom, who grew up on a farm, had heard about this in cows and pigs, but had never actually seen it in real life. I find myself disgusted and hoping I never see anything like it again.

Sleeping the Night Away

I've been fighting a nasty sinus infection for the last few days, and luckily got home early Monday night. I planned on using my free day Tuesday to do some last minute cramming for the MPRE. So I took some Tylenol Sinus and went to bed at the early hour of 11:00 p.m. so that I would be well rested. Only I rested more than I thought I ever would and found myself waking up at 12:15 the next day. And this wasn't a waking up an hitting the snooze until I felt like getting up day. This was a 'I didn't even gain consciousness till 13 hours after I went to sleep' day.

So I got up, went downstairs with all intentions of studying, and managed to fall back asleep until 2. Got up at 2, ran some errands, went to dinner with my mother, and got home at 6. And by 7:00 I was back asleep. I woke up when my mom got home around 8:30 and told her how I could not stay awake. By this time, my sinus headache was back, so I went to take more meds. I grabbed the box, and for some reason actually looked at it this time. And discovered I had mistakenly taken Tylenol Sinus Nighttime, the night before. Which I'm hoping explains why I was unable to stay awake for longer than 4 hours yesterday. And reaffirms the knowledge that I can't take sleep aids because they drug me out.

That feeling.

I keep having this recurring dream that I realize late in the semester that I've not been attending one of my classes. The class is some sort of calculus spinoff, and taught by one of my current professors, only it's not really the professor, it's his/her evil counterpart. It takes place in my old high school, but it's a college level course. In the dream, I know that I attended this class for the first week, then somehow decided that it wasn't worth my time, so skipped it once, and then forgot to go back. And of course the day I do show up, the professor is giving a test, which apparently is a regular occurence I would have known about had I attended the class.

And I hate this dream. I hate that feeling I get from time to time where I feel like I've forgotten to do something but can't pinpoint it. I got that feeling over the weekend when my mom mentioned that Friday was November 5th. And I spent the next 20 minutes trying to figure out why I knew I was supposed to do something on Nov. 5th. Never did figure it out.

Incredibly Bad

My mom and I went to see The Incredibles tonight. And boy was I disappointed. Firstly, you should never go see an animated film on opening night at a time that is prime for parents to bring their kids for a showing. And secondly, I never knew Pixar could create something so dull and boring. I was hoping for another version of Toy Story or Bug's Life, and was sorely disappointed. The movie runs entirely too long and has a plot that was bland and not worth wasting the ink. Even the Pixar short that they do before the movie was pointless.

Yet apparently someone finds this movie worthwhile. The critics are raving and my brother saw a showing earlier today and liked it. But he's a cartoon fan. I never was one to be into cartoons and maybe that was my problem. My mom apologized on the way out for making me spend my money on it. Then she commented that the 2 kids that sat in front of us were so well behaved. It was only after I pointed out to her that it was because they were asleep that we realized the true extent of our wasted money.

Hodgepodge

I've had things to blog about recently, but by the time I sit down in front of the computer, I can't remember what they are. So this is just random thoughts.

The school managed to put together the most dismal class schedule ever. It's not that the classes aren't interesting, it's that to take the classes I'm interested in, I'd be there 5 days a week, and some of them would overlap. Instead, I decided to take classes that begin with the letter I (immigration law, international law, and international and comparative family law), and had I had enough guts to take Income Tax, it would have been only I classes. Instead, to someone viewing my schedule it looks like I'm planning to sneak illegal immigrants into the country and then tell them how to run their families.

My sister called me yesterday to come over and keep the baby awake so that she didn't sleep during the day and then be up all night. But anyone who's ever tried to entertain a 3 week old will know that when a 3 week old wants to sleep, she sleeps. I tried singing to her, (which anyone who sits in front of me for church could tell you that my voice is grating enough to be anything but soothing) and yet that didn't work either.

Does Colorado realize that if they go through with dividing their electoral votes by popular vote percentage they are rendering themselves virtually useless in the next presidential election? Since the largest vote split ever is usually 70/30, then 1 candidate would be getting 6 votes, the other 3, making Colorado worth a net of 3 votes. But it's more likely that it would go 5 votes to 4, making it only worth 1. The only way it ever will work is if all states are going to go that way.

My neice is making her stage debut this Christmas as Baby Jesus in the church seasonal program. It's sort of a family tradition as I myself played Baby Jesus back in the day. Only I was supposed to be after the birth Baby Jesus, and ended up being being the pre-birth Baby Jesus, since I was born a little late.

More coherent posts coming in the future.

All Over but the Countin'

Call me sentimental, but I miss the days where I could go to bed on election night and wake up the next morning knowing who my elected officials are. I don't like staying up till 3:00 a.m. only to find out that we don't know anything yet.

I did get to vote yesterday, and only had to wait 30 minutes. This was actually the first time I ever waited to vote. We've moved to new electronic machines, and a lot of the elderly people in front of me couldn't figure out how to use them. So the workers had to keep explaining to them that after you've made all your choices, you have to push the big flashing red button to cast your votes. Which seems easy enough, but if you push this before you are ready, I don't think there is a way to withdraw your vote. And the machine just says "thank you" when you push it. No confirmation that the vote went through.

I vote in the autobody shop of my high school. And while I was standing in line, students were cutting through the room to go to class and yelling things like "Go Bush" or "Bush sucks." Which of course is in violation of the law since they were technically campaigning within about 10 feet of the machines. And we only had 3 machines, yet they chose to set them up right next to each other. So privacy was pretty much non-existent. I almost said something to them, but never wanting to be the one to stir up controversy, I just let them go on with their duties.

I'm a little shocked that I still don't have to show ID. I simply walk in, give my name, and then she reads me my address asking if it's correct. Then I have to sign a paper and put my address on it at the next table. I guess this is their failsafe that if I put the wrong address, they'll know I'm faking it. Without considering that the chic at the previous table just read me the address they have listed for me. Not very effective for catching voter fraud if you ask me.

Although I probably shouldn't complain since I at least wasn't told I couldn't vote because I was dead, as happened to thousands of people in Indianapolis.