Fabulous Fall

Sorry I've been a stranger, but staying in the saddle on the bucking bronco that is a new school year has proven...challenging. The good news is that I am making some progress in the sleep arena, with only one recent spectacular screw-up: I had two Smirnoff Ice drinks after I took prescription cold medicine at 1 am on Friday and I didn't wake up until Sunday. I shit you not. The funniest part of this to me is that Eug swears I demanded he buy chip dip on Saturday afternoon, and so he did. I had no true desire for chip dip, for the record. He also claims I told him that I tried to cut open a subcutaneous cyst with a steak knife, which is a scurrilous accusation I vehemently deny. (Shut up.) Thank God my terrific husband has a sense of humor.

Today I had my second catechism class of the year. I have twice as many students in 6th grade catechism this year, and they all seem unabashedly awesome. However, there is one child who correctly used the word "obstreperous" in conversation today, and I have no shame in admitting that she can do no wrong in my eyes, now.

I should be packing right now because I am whisking the kids away to the water wonderland that is known as Kalahari tomorrow afternoon with some friends, but something about the BEAUTIFUL weather has me meandering through the day at a snail's pace. I even squeaked in two, count 'em, two bike rides already. Tomorrow I will be putzing around in my AFM (Anonymous Fat Mom) bathing suit from Land's End with a piña colada the size of my head in one paw. Life is good.

I've been following the blog of a fairly local woman who writes a very popular personal blog more often these days, as the author is going through a hideous divorce. I hadn't ever been a fan of hers, and she is a bit of an...oversharer. But the raw pain in her writing of late has kept her in my prayers very often. Like everyone, I have an opinion about the root(s) of her problems based on the small percentage I've read of what she's written - which is, of course, far from the whole story. And while it's a very safe bet that she and I are polar opposites on just about every issue of import, I still find myself wanting to drop by her house with my enormous pedicure kit to give her a foot rub and make her toes sparkly, or something. Not out of some misplaced pity, but just from a basic human compassion/connection standpoint. I wish I could tell her that the city of Royal Oak, Michigan and its surrounding areas (Ferndale, Pleasant Ridge, Huntington Woods, Birmingham) is an enclave for assholes of the worst kind. While it's true that there are both nice people and jerks everywhere you go, some areas are simply more pedestrian than others...and thereby offer far less pressure to be cool and far more opportunities to be happy and included. Before you tell me that any self-respecting adult should be immune to such pressure, I'll have to ask you if you have firsthand knowledge of the areas in question. If not, step back, Jack. I'm also of the opinion that therapy in the absence of a practicing faith in God is a losing game at best, but it's better than nothing, I suppose. Anyway, the whole thing makes me want to hug her fiercely and then make her laugh, because no one should feel that sad.

On to happier things: Eug has been tearing up the scoreboard on Xbox 360's "Dance Central" in preparation for the release of "Dance Central 2" later this month. He was logged in on my profile and told me pointedly that I was now rated a MUCH better dancer than I am, actually. More scurrilous accusations! The cheek! Everyone knows my moves are legendary. Hmmph.

Our new puppy, Farley, is still so cute it's ridonkulous - although his ability to poop four or more times on any given short walk does cut into his charm. I really wanted him to have a Halloween costume, but we agreed that even the largest 'hot dog' costume available at Meijer would probably be too snug. Eug sagely reminded me that we need to save our pennies so we can buy him this poofy black parka with a fur-trimmed hood we saw at a specialty pet store, instead. I will earnestly try to ensure my next post includes pictures of his fabulousness. As the ringleader of the Disgruntled Cat Society, Flip is still actively plotting Farley's demise more than one month in. He's singlehandedly proving the "black cats are evil" theory oh-so-right, and he's got Andy, Murray and Jasper all head-up, too. The feline agitation here is definitely viral.

That's about all of note Chez Nous, friends. I hope your October is shaping up to be cider and doughnut-filled, and that the winds of fall blow all your leaves into one, neat pile.