Chicago Chick

Friday 5 for November 19: Literally Figurative

It's been a long time since I responded to a Friday 5.  I used to LOVE answering these, but there was a period of time when the Friday 5 ceased to exist.  I'm glad that I found it again.

1. Do you prefer to be in the driver’s seat or in the co-pilot’s chair, literally and figuratively?
   I prefer to be in the driver's seat - literally and figuratively.  I'm a control freak.
2. Do you have a lot of baggage, literally and figuratively?
   I have a lot of baggage - literally.  Figuratively, I try not to carry a grudge.  Instead, I would rather learn from my mistakes.
3. How much junk have you got in the trunk, literally and figuratively?
   I have literally no junk in my trunk.  The car is pretty tidy.  Figuratively, I have a pleasant amount of junk in my trunk.  I could stand to lose some of it or at least firm it up.
4. At celebrations where people are drinking, are you more likely to be literally or figuratively drunk as a skunk?
   I'm not sure how you can figuratively be "drunk as a skunk".  I tend to go more literal on this one minus the smell of a skunk.  Or, maybe that's what is meant as being figuratively "drunk as a skunk."
5. What’s something you enjoy that’s literally cheesy, and what’s something you enjoy that’s figuratively cheesy?
   I literally love Laughing Cow cheese; figuratively, I really enjoy those awful wedding shows like Say Yes to the Dress and Amazing Wedding Cakes.  I also really like any episode of Food TV Challenge

On Vacation - Yeah, Right!

I'm supposed to be off today, but I knew that I would end up working.  And, guess what?  Yep, I am working.  That's fine - I will just take Wednesday off as a vacation day; assuming, that is, that I am not WORKING on Tuesday and Wednesday.

On a funnier note, there is a Project Manager at work who I have status with each week.  The first week we had a status the last 5 minutes were what I like to call "getting to know you" chatter.  I get the usual "so where are you from" and "did you grow up in Chicago" type questions.  But the meeting ended abruptly when he asked me about my perfume.  The conversation went like this:

PM: What perfume are you wearing?
ME: I'm not - it's probably shampoo or lotion.
PM: Well, I guess we want people to smell like what we want.  You smell like the islands.

And then, he started to sniff the air.  Let's just say that the meeting was over immediately.  I smiled and excused myself saying that I needed to run to another meeting.  It was the LAST time I have had any closed door status meetings with anyone (normally I close the door to minimize people popping in for stuff).  Today one of my friends, who knows the story, sent me an article about scents.  The last paragraph of the article says that the Party Girl type girl "smells like the islands, with notes of jasmine, gardenia, tuberose, and lilly."  It sent me in to fits of laughter followed by a session of coughing.  The article in question can be found here.

I suppose if I can't BE on vacation on an island somewhere, I can at least SMELL like it!

What's that Smell?

Still in the hot weather state and the other day I was driving and smelled a smell.  The smell was the hot-weather-humid-air-it's-summer" smell.  The kind that instantly brought me back to being in 5th grade and waking up to the first day of summer break.  It was a woozy kind of smell in the air.  For some strange reason, smell is something that triggers memories for me.

The smell of Drakkar Noir, a heavy 80's men's fragrance, reminds me of high school and the guy I was dating.  Oddly enough, the smell of fabric softener reminds me of him too.  What can I say - we dated for a long time.  The smell of clean, disposable diapers reminds me of my childhood and my sister and the smell of oranges reminds me of her too.  My favorite time of year - fall - is my favorite not only because of the cool, crisp weather and the crunching sounds of the leaves, but because there's a certain smell in the air.  It's a paper, warm, earthy smell.

And, then there's the smell of snow and of Christmas.  I swear I can smell it in the air and every time I do and I say that I can, people look at me like I'm nuts.  Once I said it to a coworker and she called me a vampire and another time I said it to a close friend and she actually got it.  So yesterday I smelled the "hot-weather-humid-air-it's-summer" smell and I was happy. 

My Pleasure

My oldest son has this thing of having to be first.  This afternoon they were racing in their plasma cars and the oldest was yelling, "I wanna be first!  I wanna be first!"  Attached to his plasma car is a plastic wagon full of shoe boxes and in his haste to be first, the contents of his plastic wagon emptied out.

When my oldest son figured out that the wagon's load had been emptied, he circled back to try to pick up the mess.  The youngest one followed along to help.  When the boxes were picked up and put back into the wagon, my oldest son said, "Thank you for helping!" to which the youngest said, "My pleasure!" and drove away happily.

I have no idea how these guys became such characters.

Like Pavlov's Dog

I went into work today even though the office was closed.  Why would I do such a crazy thing?  Well, because the boys didn't have school today and if I stick around during a 3 day weekend, it throws their schedule off.  Or, that's what David says.  Who am I to question the man who runs my sons' schedule?

So today I am at work and nobody else is, but it's okay because I am getting a tremendous amount of work done in record time.  So much so that I can stop and write a journal entry - imagine that!  The only thing that seems to interrupt me is my Blacberry because it goes "ding" when I have a message.

There was a time that the "ding" meant something to me, but now the noise has taken in new meaning.  The meaning is that it - the noise - is meaningless.  The messages that I'm getting through my Blackberry are no longer important, but at one time they seemed to mean everything.  

The point is that the "ding" which used to mean something, no longer does.  But, I've been so trained to listen to the "ding" that for a moment my heart jumps; then my heart sinks a little because I remember that the noise signifies something that used to be.  It's like I've become Pavlov's Dog.  I know that I've been trained to assign meaning to that infernal "ding" but it's been MONTHS since that noise has lost its meaning and I'm wondering how long it will take until that noise is - well - just a noise.  Nothing more and nothing less.

We All Grow Up

I was on my cousin's blog and found a reference to Calvin and Hobbes.  I have always been a HUGE fan of Calvin and Hobbes and have purchased some cartoons and have framed them.  I also have the last cartoon and have it framed.  It's hanging in my office - I can say that now that I actually have an office where I can hang pictures.

My cousin had a picture of Calvin, Hobbes, and Susie all grown up by sora1589 at deviantARTand I couldn't resist putting it here along with the link to the source.  Sadly, we all grow up - even cartoon characters.

The Husband of My Dreams Wears a Yellow Hat

This weekend I was snuggling in bed with my boys - sans the husband - and as they started falling asleep I realized how cool being a parent is.  Okay, so it isn't glamorous and it doesn't pay well, but I still think it's the coolest job in the world.  There are things that go with being a parent that I don't particularly care for like being tired all the time and having to watch children's television over and over again.

Really, watching the same episodes of Curious George over and over again can be taxing.  It gets scary when your dreams start including the fuzzy monkey and being married to the Man with the Yellow Hat.  Frightening.  Then there is the fact that things are sticky.  Okay, so maybe life is less sticky than I first thought it would be.  Still, I don't think that there is a parent out there that wouldn't love to have a night of peace and quiet - without dreams of the Man with the Yellow Hat

The Little Lies We Tell Ourselves

I had to renew my driver's license recently because there was a change in address.  The funny thing about driver's licenses and other such ids is that there's always this moment when you realize that there will be a picture taken.  I say funny because I think it's strictly a woman thing to get "gussied" up for a picture - any picture - even an id picture.

When I walked up to the counter, the man behind it asked me if I had any changes to the information.  I told him that everything was current except for the address to which he smiled politely.  I could see that he kinda smirked a little when he turned around to get something and it was that "I've been down this road before and I'm not going to tell you to update your weight because I don't want you to come across the counter and smack me" kind of smirk.  Had he told me that, I would have maybe added some weight to what was listed on my driver's license but he didn't so I didn't.

I wonder how many people have the correct height and weight on their driver's licenses and how far off they are from the truth.  It's a white lie I know.  I mean the coroner isn't going to go by what's listed on your driver's license if you die and it's not like anyone really expects it to be the truth.  But, really is it just wishful thinking on our parts?  Maybe next year when I have to get my license renewed I will actually weigh what it says on my driver's license or maybe I'll just fess up and have them put "NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS" on it.

Strange Dreams

I have been having some very strange dreams the past couple of nights.  It's probably the amount of stress that I've been under lately with work and home.  Usually, I have a lot going on but I haven't been this crazy in a long time.  When I say "this crazy" I mean the good kind of crazy and not the "my child may have autism; my job sucks royal rotten eggs; and my real estate agent is a bitch" kind of way.  So, the job is still a little rocky but it is is totally something that I can handle.

Still, there is enough stress to make me have strange dreams like the one I had the night before last where the entire project team that I am part of accompanied me to the local Costco and one of the team members wanted Oreo cookies.  Sadly, the Project Manager said that it wasn't in the project plan and we couldn't have them.  And the night before last, I went car shopping with an old co-worker who in real life sent me an e-mail to catch up.

So, it's not like the subjects of my dreams are that far off but it is disturbing to have your work life collide with the part of your day where you're supposed to be getting away from it all.  I've had dreams about school when I was in college - the kind where you're not ready for a final because you haven't been to class all semester and you haven't read any of the material or done any of the work.  I suppose the dreams I'm having are similar.  I'm just glad when I wake up that I find that I'm in my own bed, miles away from ANY of my co-workers!

Inside My Head

At 30 something you would think that any kind of drama in my life would be over.  I mean, I'm a long time (10 years is kinda long) married chick with 2 toddler boys.  The only drama created in my life is due to getting my oldest son to eat.  This week has been filled with drama and very short lived - thank God!  When things start to get a little heavy in my life I like to laugh to alleviate some of the stress.  This usually comes in the form of doing things like playing with the kids; jumping on the bed; or watching cartoons with the boys.

Last night I was teaching Nick and Alex to do somersaults on the bed.  We were also jumping on the bed, but don't tell David because he hates when I do that.  Something about how I'm dirtying the sheets or something like that.  So David walks in while we're doing somersaults and started laughing.  When David laughs, Alex starts to do his imitation of him by guffawing and snorting.  So, David laughs even harder and someone in the midst of all this laughing passed gas.

Alex suddenly stopped laughing and looked all serious.  I swear I thought he was going to start crying for some unknown reason.  But he turns to David and says, "Change diaper!  Change diaper!  Someone poopied! Bah, ha, ha, ha!" which sent David and I into fits of laughter.

It seems that the times that I get to enjoy my family or that we have moments like this are so far and few between.  I realize that they are so important to have and to remember.  I also realize how lucky I am.  There was a time not too long ago that I was dealing with infertility and I was angry and devastated.  But, here I am years later with 2 healthy and happy sons.  When the unimportant drama in life comes along - and most of it IS unimportant - it's important to remember what life is really like.

The Nyquil Fog

I've been fighting a cold the past few days.  I'm congested and my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton.  On the one hand, I can't hear so well so that when the boys are loud, I'm not annoyed.  But nobody likes being sick least of all me.

When I'm fighting a cold, the only thing that seems to help me get over it quickly is Nyquil because it just knocks me out and I can get some rest.  Even a coughing attack won't wake me up.  I remember when I had my first job out of college traveling all over the place, I would take some Nyquil if I couldn't sleep (usually on Tuesday nights) and it would knock me right out.  I'm sure that wasn't the intended use for the stuff, but ah well.

The funny - or not so funny - thing about Nyquil is that it affects your dreams.  I know that I'm not the only one affected because I've talked to other people and they say the same thing.  The dreams that you have on Nyquil are pretty strange and the longer you take it, the stranger your dreams become.

The first night I had a dream that I was at the Blogher conference and was talking to some of the bloggers that I had met (via e-mail) this past year.  The second night on Nyquil (last night), I dreamed that I was talking to Amy of Comments from the Peanut Gallery - actually, her daughter Livie.  The odd thing was that Livie was like 10 feet tall and I was as small as an ant.

My cold doesn't seem to be getting better, but I don't want to take any Nyquil again since I'm sure the recurring dream that I had in my childhood will probably resurface.  The recurring dream has to do with my father being a vampire and chasing me around - not something I care to dream about since I haven't had that particular dream in 15 years.

A Matter of Perspective

I have been feeling really, really yucky lately and it's probably because of what I've been eating.  Lots and lots of crappy food like Fritos and fast food.  It's making me feel yucky and I was telling my friend, JS - a friend of my friend Maria.

JS works at Children's Memorial Hospital and spends most of her days with young oncology patients.  She has lots of stories to tell - some happy and some sad - but one of the things that I love about JS is that she tells the right stories at the right time.  So, when I'm bitching about how crappy my life is, she tells us stories that makes me realize that my life isn't so bad.

Most of her stories aren't sad; in fact I would say that they are pretty humorous.  The other day she told me the following story about a 7 year old oncology/heart transplant patient (which made me laugh really hard that I almost peed my pants):

Joe was a 7 year old oncology patient who needed a heart transplant due to damage from chemotherapy.  Joe made it through the heart transplant with flying colors.  Later that year, Mark - another 7 year old oncology patient - needed a heart transplant and the staff at the hospital thought it would be good for Mark to talk to Joe about what it would be like to go through the procedure.

Joe agreed and the hospital staff, Joe, and Mark sat down together to talk.  JS introduced Joe to Mark and told him that Joe went through the same procedure and if he had any questions to ask Joe about what it was like Joe would be happy to answer them.  Joe was told that if there was anything that he wanted to tell Mark about the procedure then that would be great.

Joe nodded his head and sat for a moment thoughtfully.  He then said, "You know, when you go into the operating room you've got underwear on and then when you wake up in the recovery room, the underwear - dude - your underwear's GONE."  Mark sat there wide-eyed and nodded in understanding.

JS said that she almost peed in her pants.  It was a glimpse into what it was like to be 7 years old again.  Okay, maybe an extra-special 7 year old, but a 7 year old nonetheless.  Worrying about taking your medicine and the pain and survival - that kind of stuff is for the adults to worry about.  But the underwear, oh the underwear, now that was something that, as a 7 year old, you had to be concerned about.  And FYI - both boys are doing just fine and are probably about 11 or 12 by now.

I'm Tired, So What Else is New?

I'm tired.  No, scratch that - I am EXHAUSTED!  It isn't just the move and it isn't just work or the kids or David (or the fact that he didn't want to hire movers - yes I'm still mad).  It isn't the fact that I feel completely lost.  Lost, as in, I don't know who I am because I'm going through yet another big change that is completely self-imposed.

Sooner or later I would like to have what I would consider a "boring" year.  No job changes, no babies, no pregnancies, no large family blow-outs, and no moving.  I would be happy if 2008 included only the ONE big event - the move to our new and hopefully LAST house that we will buy.  If I could also have an end to world hunger, the mommy wars, and Heidi and Spencer's engagement that would be nice too.  But, being that those 3 things are on the list of "Nope, Never Gonna Happen" I would settle for just the one big event in 2008 for me.

This Sunday the movers that I hired are coming to take the rest of our stuff to the house that we're renting.  The house that we're renting will now and forever be referred to as the "Temp House" because I'm tired of typing out "the house that we're renting" when I refer to it.  We close on the sale of our place the week after next and I will officially no longer be a resident of Chicago.  Ugh - I threw up a little in my mouth when I said that.

So far the commute from the Temp House in a nearby suburb to our condo (where I shower and do some work) hasn't been that bad.  However, when you leave the suburbs at 5:00 am there really should not be a traffic problem.  Life should get a little bit easier on Friday when the Comcast people come to transfer my Internet service to the Temp House.  Yeah, after it took them 3 days to restore service at our condo and I was left with absolutely NO Internet anywhere to do work.

What Did I Just Tell You!?!?

Once upon a time, my mom was young and beautiful.  She still is beautiful, but not in the conventional sense.  Given that Ma is in her 60s she shows signs of aging and stress but she still looks great.  There are smile lines, stress lines, and bags under her eyes, but her eyes sparkle - more so now than when I was a child.

When I was a child, I would say that Ma's eyes flashed; I swear she could kill you with just one look.  I fully believe that this is a gift that you are given the moment you give birth to a child because I don't know one living person who I've spoken to who would not say that their mom had that "killer look".  You know the one - the look that told you that whatever it was that you were doing you had better stop or else.

I now have that "killer look" and oddly enough it works on David although that doesn't necessarily mean that he stops what he's doing.  It does work on the boys.  One of my New Year's Resolutions in 2008 is going to be that I stop (okay, cut down) on the yelling.  I can't help it.  Along with the "killer look" that Ma gave us was the yelling - I come from a very loud (mostly due to yelling) family.

I know now that it could not have been easy to raise my brother, sister, and me.  And, even though there was a lot of laughter, there was a lot of yelling as in "WHAT did I tell YOU!?!?" and "WHY can't you listen?"  Truthfully, it wasn't a matter of listening; it was a matter of OBEYING.  I suppose if we were asked, "WHY can't you OBEY?" it wouldn't have mattered.  I realize now that the stress on Ma's face is mostly due to us kids.  She was the one who did a lot of the yelling.  And, although Da did his fair share of yelling it wasn't as much as Ma.  Oddly enough, his face is not as marked with stress lines and he really doesn't have bags under his eyes.

Finally, a Chance to Write About a Google Search

I look at my stats regularly and I like looking at the page that referenced my site.  Usually they're normal sites, but every once in awhile there is a Google reference, meaning that someone did a search and my site was one of the results.  I'm not know for putting anything "dirty" on my site, although I may use a swear word or two.  Then again, I wouldn't exactly say that my site is rated "G" either.

But, when I looked at some of the pages that referenced my site on my stats page I noticed that one came from Google where someone did a search on "some chick having one massive orgasm"  It struck me as funny - not that someone in Australia found my site with that particular Google search, but that I actually could write about it.

A lot of the blogs that I read have talked about the funny searches that have turned up their pages and I always thought that was a fun topic to write about.  Unfortunately, my page never seemed to come up when strange searches were made.  Yeah, I come up if you type in nike run hit wonder Chicago 2007, but that isn't very interesting.  So, this morning I get to write about how a search with the words "massive orgasm" turns up my page.  I'm hoping that this isn't the high point to my day.

The Irene Comedy Show

Life has gotten awfully complicated lately what with the move, Nick's birthday, and the newly hired sales person I am working with at work.  It seemed as though once we sold our place the stream of things to do has become endless.  Nick turns 3 this week and next week we have his first day of preschool followed by moving day right after.  Never mind that we haven't finished packing - actually, we've barely put a dent into packing - and I still have to call the utility companies.

So, in between phone calls, e-mails, and scheduling AND planning meetings I've taken the liberty of using any spare 5 minutes I can get calling people like the ISP provider and the cable company.  It's actually kind of fun because nobody believes me when I tell them that I need to transfer service and that in 6 months I will be talking to them again to transfer service yet again.  The whole house situation is comical, although it wasn't that funny at first.

Luckily, my aunt and uncle are okay with us renting their home for 6 months instead of buying it.  Truthfully I would have bought their house if it weren't on a busy street - when I say busy, I mean BUSY.  The thought of the nightmares of the boys getting hurt is enough to make me reconsider.  My first call was to the wonderful people of Comcast where my call was answered by Racquel.

Racquel was really helpful.  It made it even better that she was a willing participant in the off handed comments that I made about our moving situation.  Here's a snippet of our conversation:

Racquel: So, we can reach you at 312-555-1212 the day of the transfer?
Me: Oooh, that's my husband's cell phone number which he does NOT answer EVER.  Can you put down my cell number 312-555-2222?
Racquel: Sure.
Me: Why is it that they don't answer their phones?  I mean you could be bloody and dying on the side of the road and they won't answer their cell phones.  But, now if YOU don't answer your cell phone when they call, you end up catching all sorts of grief?!?
Racquel: Oh that's funny.  I don't know why that is.  My boyfriend says that he never answers the phone unless he sees that it's my number.  And the times that he doesn't answer his phone and he sees it's my number, he figures I'll just call someone else.
Me: My husband says the same thing.  Now if I WANTED to talk to someone else, dontcha think that I would have called someone else instead of wasting my time?

The conversation went back and forth like that.  And, it was a nice 5 minute break from my life.  In the end, Racquel wished me well and hoped that my move was as fun as the phone call she was having with me.  I told her, that it's only fun if you're moving with strangers.  If you're moving with people who know you it's just work and whining wondering when they can get something to eat.  It's annoying because it's a 10 minute cycle of work, whining, and wanting something to eat.  She suggested that I make up hats with a sandwich dangling in front of the visor.

Hmmmm, maybe she's on to something.  This moving this is really stressful, but calling the utility companies and ISP to change service is actually kind of fun.

Dear Boys, I Love You but You're Making Me Nuts!

Being an adult is far from easy, but add to that 2 small toddlers with sticky hands and sweet faces that can turn stormy at the drop of a hat; a husband who really would rather work outside the home; a new job that is demanding only because I make it that way; and a very loud storm and things get even more stressful.  Lately the boys have been battling a virus so they're really REALLY cranky which makes David crankier than usual.

I love my little family very much but there are times that I get tired of running back and forth between 2 screaming toddlers and a frustrated husband.  Actually, I wish that David would realize that the kids won't be "in control" (his words not mine) at all times.  I think expecting a toddler to be "in control" is completely ridiculous especially since their parents are seldom in control - of anything!

With the oldest one's 3rd birthday next week, I have to add "plan a day with N" to the ever growing list of things to do.  I'm sure that in the end, he won't care what we do as long as it's interesting and different.  If anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.  For now we are planning on riding the Metra (David's idea); going to the Museum of Science and Industry; and going to the Shedd Aquarium.  The weather's supposed to be crappy so I've planned a lot of indoor activities.

Remembering How to Be a Kid Again

Remembering your childhood is a universal thing whether you have children or not and whether or not you remember your childhood as happy.  I think that even the most jaded person who had the most terrible childhood has at least one happy memory.  I definitely do not remember my childhood as unhappy, although it was far from perfect.  There are things that I do remember like Mister Roger's Neighborhood, The Electric Company, Sesame Street, and of course The Muppet Show.

There are moments in my life when the kid part of me bubbles to the surface (probably because the kid part of me is not hidden very deep) in moments when I'm in an "adult role".  For example, when I was in grad school and I needed to make up names for users I would use Muppet Show Names - Fozzie Bear was a favorite.  And, when I was a consultant I used Kermit D. Frog and Miss Piggy to illustrate what "collusion" was.  I think it's really important to remember that being a kid and characters like Miss Piggy are pretty universal and incorporating them into my "adult" world was great because it often broke the ice in difficult situations.

As a kid, you couldn't stay up late, you had to eat vegetables that you didn't even pick out, and maybe you had to share a room with a sibling, but overall childhood is completely UNDERrated and being an adult is overrated.  So, last night when I watched America's Got Talent and Terry Fator won, it was heartwarming.  Not only because Terry is a grown man with an obscure occupation, which probably doesn't bring in a ton of money, but because that little kid in me bubbled to the surface.

With all the chaos going on lately, it felt as though the little kid in me was sinking deeper into oblivion.  But, watching Terry Fator every week on a stupid reality show that I really never watched before made me smile and for a moment there I remembered things like the Muppets.  Having kids or nieces and nephews does not necessarily make you grow up and it doesn't necessarily make you FEEL like a kid again.  Sure you are able to live vicariously through them but it's not like you're really ever the kid.  It's moments that make you remember your childhood that truly transport you.

So, here's a little snippet of the Muppets paying tribute to Jim Henson after he died.  I'm such a sap - it made me cry:

Major Transition Coming

I've been talking about this forever and spent this past spring obsessing over Nick going off to preschool.  David and I chose a small, private school for Nick and are excited about him going to school.  Yes, I know that the public schools in the city have wonderful programs, but when we visited the school that we selected I had a gut feeling that it was the right one.

Actually, that last sentence is funny because initially we went to see the school looking to find things wrong with it.  My mom's friend sends her children to this school and my mom was adamant about us checking it out.  Normally, I would just roll my eyes and nod my head - anything to get my mom off my back about unsolicited (and usually unwanted) parenting and schooling advice.  But, she kept on with it and even signed us up for the spring open house.

I hate to admit it, but she was right.  I asked a lot of really crazy questions like "what are your Terra Nova scores like?" and "so, if I wanted to take a look at the school books before the school year started, could I do that?" and "would it be possible for me to get a lesson plan prior to the school year so that I could make sure that if my son needs help I will be able to do the school work properly?"  I don't want to be the kind of parent that is completely hands off with my child's learning leaving it to the teacher to carry the burden, so I was asking all sorts of nutty questions.

Surprisingly, the principal gave me all the answers AND even introduced me to each of the teachers even though Nick wouldn't be in their grades.  All the teachers said that I could contact them as often as I wished and even gave me the names of parents who did just that.  David talked to the parents and they had nothing but positive things to say about the level of communication.  He was also told that if he wanted to sit in the class and observe, he would be welcomed.  David and I tried in vain to find something wrong - anything that would cause us to cross the school off our list - but we couldn't.  I am sure that there will be things that I will complain about because nothing is perfect.

One of the things that I really like about this school, besides the low student to teacher ratio is that before school begins they do a "transition program" to get the kids ready for school.  The kick off to the transition is an ice cream social - it should be interesting.  I'm sure that Nick will be fine.  I, on the other hand, will probably be an emotional wreck for the next month or so.  It stands to reason since this past year has been nothing but transitions for me.  Do you think that the transition program is more for parents like me than for the kids - hmmmm.

So WHERE Did "IT" Go?

I seem to spend a lot of time driving.  You'd think that I would spend LESS time driving since my office is 10 minutes away from home, but I seem to run home for lunch every now and then.  And, even though I didn't work today because it's the weekend for chrissakes, I sat for what seemed like forever on Damen Ave.

Luckily, there is a lot to look at while you're waiting.  There's road construction and it's "fest" season so there are a lot of people walking around.  There's also a lot of reading material in the form of graffiti and advertisements on buses.  Today I saw a bus that was announcing that SYPHILIS IS BACK! - seriously, it was in bold, black, all capital letters with an exclamation point.

I was a little shocked.  Then, I thought to myself, "Hmmm. . . if syphilis is back that must mean that it went somewhere."  My next thought was whether the reason syphilis is back was because Justin Timberlake brought sexy back not too long ago.  And, did sexy being back cause syphilis to follow along?  Where did sexy and syphilis go?  And, does this mean that safe sex went somewhere too?

I was actually laughing out loud by the time I drove past the first of 2 tee-shirt stores on Damen.  It was the thought of getting one of those vacation souvenir shirts that says, "Syphilis went away and all I got was this stupid t-shirt.".  I guess I'm just easily amused!