Monday, August 27, 2007

Tales From the Inbox

From: Important Human-Resources-Type Person
Subject: MSU Homecoming Court -- Know any great Seniors?

Know any super Seniors?
If so, nominate them for the 2007 MSU Homecoming Court!


From: GreenTuna
Subject: Re: MSU Homecoming Court -- Know any great Seniors?

Well, I think my Grandma is pretty cool.

Tales From the Inbox

From: Important Human-Resources-Type Person
Subject: MSU Homecoming Court -- Know any great Seniors?

Know any super Seniors?
If so, nominate them for the 2007 MSU Homecoming Court!


From: GreenTuna
Subject: Re: MSU Homecoming Court -- Know any great Seniors?

Well, I think my Grandma is pretty cool.

The Young and the Clueless

In honor of the first day of school here at TunaU, it seems only fitting to present to you two case studies demonstrating the dire need for a whole lot more education in our world today.



The Young and the Clueless

In honor of the first day of school here at TunaU, it seems only fitting to present to you two case studies demonstrating the dire need for a whole lot more education in our world today.



Sunday, August 26, 2007

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And you think:

1. Uneven :: Pavement

2. Wonder :: Stevie

3. Spider :: Bug

4. Emma :: Thompson

5. Swing :: Shift

6. Orbit :: Outer Space

7. Flirt :: Tease

8. Donation :: Gift

9. Veil :: Disguise

10. Atmosphere :: Ambiance


All over the place this week. That's ok. So am I.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And you think:

1. Uneven :: Pavement

2. Wonder :: Stevie

3. Spider :: Bug

4. Emma :: Thompson

5. Swing :: Shift

6. Orbit :: Outer Space

7. Flirt :: Tease

8. Donation :: Gift

9. Veil :: Disguise

10. Atmosphere :: Ambiance


All over the place this week. That's ok. So am I.

One Word Sarcomical Sunday

This would be the first time I've done this little meme. The hardest thing in the world for me is sticking to a one-word answer, which is the whole point of the meme. How about you? Good luck.

Meme courtesy of Sarcomical.

Hoping For: Clarity
Just Finished: Changing
Jonesing For: Relaxation
Most Annoying Brady Bunch Kid: Bobby
Word to Describe Your Personal Sense of Style: Comfy
Last Snack:Tomatos
Have Never, Ever Tried:Whiskey
Last Clumsy Injury: Head
Your Environment: Unpredictable
Daily Object You'd Like to Throw Into Oncoming Traffic: Schedule
Favorite Kind of Soup: Crab
Holiday You Don't Typically Celebrate: Kwanzaa
Happy To Have: Support
Want To Start: Painting
Need To Start: Sleeping
Last Thing You Purchased: Pajamas
Color of Your Car Interior: Dingy
Color of the Wall in the Room You're In: Beige
Days Since Your Last Night Out: Six
Number of Rings On Your Fingers: Zero
How Many Minutes It Takes To Do Your Hair: Five
Favorite Outdoor Smell: Grill
Number of Clocks in Your Home (not on appliances): Five
Where You Put Spare Change: Jar

One Word Sarcomical Sunday

This would be the first time I've done this little meme. The hardest thing in the world for me is sticking to a one-word answer, which is the whole point of the meme. How about you? Good luck.

Meme courtesy of Sarcomical.

Hoping For: Clarity
Just Finished: Changing
Jonesing For: Relaxation
Most Annoying Brady Bunch Kid: Bobby
Word to Describe Your Personal Sense of Style: Comfy
Last Snack:Tomatos
Have Never, Ever Tried:Whiskey
Last Clumsy Injury: Head
Your Environment: Unpredictable
Daily Object You'd Like to Throw Into Oncoming Traffic: Schedule
Favorite Kind of Soup: Crab
Holiday You Don't Typically Celebrate: Kwanzaa
Happy To Have: Support
Want To Start: Painting
Need To Start: Sleeping
Last Thing You Purchased: Pajamas
Color of Your Car Interior: Dingy
Color of the Wall in the Room You're In: Beige
Days Since Your Last Night Out: Six
Number of Rings On Your Fingers: Zero
How Many Minutes It Takes To Do Your Hair: Five
Favorite Outdoor Smell: Grill
Number of Clocks in Your Home (not on appliances): Five
Where You Put Spare Change: Jar

Friday, August 24, 2007

Friday's Feast

More like Friday's Brunch. Be warned: several non-answers ahead.

Appetizer: Say there's a book written about your life. Who would you want to narrate the audio version?
GreenTuna: There's a book written about my life.
Ok, I couldn't resist. If it's written about my life I suppose it might be a bit odd to have a male narrator, though that seems a narrow view to take. My male choices would be James Earl Jones or Morgan Freeman. Nothing like an eloquent rich-voiced African-American Man to tell the tale of a pasty-faced white girl. My female choices would be Dame Judy Dench (nothing like the eloquent and crisply enunciated lilt of a Knighted British actress) or maybe Susan Sarandon. Just because.


Soup: Take the letters from from your favorite kind of nut and write a sentence (Example: Perhaps every avenue needs understanding today).

asorry,
ltoo
mearly
ofor
nword
dgames

(first letter of each word being silent)


Salad: If you could go back in time and spend one week in another decade, which decade would you choose?
I've already spent so much time in several of them. Do I really need to take a 7-day Mulligan?


Main Course: Name a song that brings back memories for you
Too many from which to choose. Being a singer, my life is one big song catalog, and there are multiple songs for practically every occasion. Even the Star Spangled Banner has a Tuna-twinged history, though to be honest, I personally do not recall said events.


Dessert: Do you prefer to wash your hands in cold water or warm water?
Depends. If I'm hot, I prefer cold. If I'm cold, I prefer hot. Mostly, I prefer clean and wet.

Friday's Feast

More like Friday's Brunch. Be warned: several non-answers ahead.

Appetizer: Say there's a book written about your life. Who would you want to narrate the audio version?
GreenTuna: There's a book written about my life.
Ok, I couldn't resist. If it's written about my life I suppose it might be a bit odd to have a male narrator, though that seems a narrow view to take. My male choices would be James Earl Jones or Morgan Freeman. Nothing like an eloquent rich-voiced African-American Man to tell the tale of a pasty-faced white girl. My female choices would be Dame Judy Dench (nothing like the eloquent and crisply enunciated lilt of a Knighted British actress) or maybe Susan Sarandon. Just because.


Soup: Take the letters from from your favorite kind of nut and write a sentence (Example: Perhaps every avenue needs understanding today).

asorry,
ltoo
mearly
ofor
nword
dgames

(first letter of each word being silent)


Salad: If you could go back in time and spend one week in another decade, which decade would you choose?
I've already spent so much time in several of them. Do I really need to take a 7-day Mulligan?


Main Course: Name a song that brings back memories for you
Too many from which to choose. Being a singer, my life is one big song catalog, and there are multiple songs for practically every occasion. Even the Star Spangled Banner has a Tuna-twinged history, though to be honest, I personally do not recall said events.


Dessert: Do you prefer to wash your hands in cold water or warm water?
Depends. If I'm hot, I prefer cold. If I'm cold, I prefer hot. Mostly, I prefer clean and wet.

I ain't laughed more harder in a long time

Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

I ain't laughed more harder in a long time

Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Thursday Thirteen



Thirteen Things about GREENTUNA

(Guess the source of)
Thirteen Seemingly Random Lines from
Movies or TV Shows
that I have been known to quote
at the Drop of a Hat



1. "Where ya goin' Mr. Fat Jack?"
"I'm goin' to get the little boat."
"The LITTLE BOAT?"

2. "I GOT MY HEAD STUCK IN THE CUPBOARD!"

3. "Don't forget to bring a towel!"

4. "I do not think it means what you think it means."

5. "I got better."

6. "I'm goin' home and I'm gonna bite my pillow!"

7. "Scarecrow, I think I'll miss you most of all."

8. "COWBOY RIB-EYE!!!!"

9. "Dum Dum Dum Dum DUM!"

10. "There are some who call me ... Tim."

11. "Ye borshkeyerdeahoomm Bork! Bork! Bork!"

12. "I'm Mrs. Rabbit...the little feller's mother."

13. "Pie, Pie, Pie, Pie, PIE!"


Links to other Thursday Thirteens!


Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Thursday Thirteen



Thirteen Things about GREENTUNA

(Guess the source of)
Thirteen Seemingly Random Lines from
Movies or TV Shows
that I have been known to quote
at the Drop of a Hat



1. "Where ya goin' Mr. Fat Jack?"
"I'm goin' to get the little boat."
"The LITTLE BOAT?"

2. "I GOT MY HEAD STUCK IN THE CUPBOARD!"

3. "Don't forget to bring a towel!"

4. "I do not think it means what you think it means."

5. "I got better."

6. "I'm goin' home and I'm gonna bite my pillow!"

7. "Scarecrow, I think I'll miss you most of all."

8. "COWBOY RIB-EYE!!!!"

9. "Dum Dum Dum Dum DUM!"

10. "There are some who call me ... Tim."

11. "Ye borshkeyerdeahoomm Bork! Bork! Bork!"

12. "I'm Mrs. Rabbit...the little feller's mother."

13. "Pie, Pie, Pie, Pie, PIE!"


Links to other Thursday Thirteens!


Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Weird Science

What: Mario Brothers 2 cartridge (Game Boy Advanced System)
Where: Discovered in the Christmas tree stand floating in sludgy water
Duration: Approximately one week
Result: Game over.

What: Super Mario 3 cartridge (Game Boy Advanced System)
Where: Discovered in the dryer (which meant it also went through the washer)
Duration: One medium-sized wash and dry
Result: Score!


I really don't know what any of it means, but empirical research like this doesn't come along every day. You're welcome.

Weird Science

What: Mario Brothers 2 cartridge (Game Boy Advanced System)
Where: Discovered in the Christmas tree stand floating in sludgy water
Duration: Approximately one week
Result: Game over.

What: Super Mario 3 cartridge (Game Boy Advanced System)
Where: Discovered in the dryer (which meant it also went through the washer)
Duration: One medium-sized wash and dry
Result: Score!


I really don't know what any of it means, but empirical research like this doesn't come along every day. You're welcome.

Shouted Down


Sadly, it seems the parents of 45,000 squirrelly collegians were able to shout out the divine because, come hell or high water, they wanted them out of the house TODAY.

The Bastille, and the University falls under the weight of a couple hundred pounds of heavy text books and several thousand cases of beer. Let the school year begin.

Shouted Down


Sadly, it seems the parents of 45,000 squirrelly collegians were able to shout out the divine because, come hell or high water, they wanted them out of the house TODAY.

The Bastille, and the University falls under the weight of a couple hundred pounds of heavy text books and several thousand cases of beer. Let the school year begin.

Can You Hear Me Now?


It is darker outside right now at 8:30am than it was last night at 10:30pm. I believe this is a divine shout out to 45,000 squirrelly collegians that we're just not ready for them to storm the Bastille. Maybe tomorrow.

Can You Hear Me Now?


It is darker outside right now at 8:30am than it was last night at 10:30pm. I believe this is a divine shout out to 45,000 squirrelly collegians that we're just not ready for them to storm the Bastille. Maybe tomorrow.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Broken Places


This summer, the black-eyed susans were everywhere. Everywhere, that is, where they had never been before. Several years ago we got two plants, and now there were clumps of volunteers all over the place. Whether it was the birds or a stiff breeze or some unseen hand, we discovered them here, there and everywhere, in the most unusual places.

One of the more robust clumps was firmly entrenched in a crack in the driveway. I wondered how the heck it got there, but it wasn't saying. It just stood there, big and healthy in a tiny, hard space. I'm no master gardener, but to the best of my knowledge, driveway gardening has never been recommended by the experts, unless the plant lives in a pot filled with good soil that sits on or near the driveway. But never in it.

Even the crack was lacking. It wasn't a regular deeply-scored division of the cement. It was a jagged, ugly crack: a fissure in the cement that betrayed the fact that even this rock-hard surface wasn't strong enough to withstand the constant freezing and thawing of a Michigan winter.

But no matter. The Black-Eyed Susans thrived despite the lack of everything necessary for a plant. There was no space to grow and no dirt. And while the sun shone on it and the occasional breeze blew, more often than not those luxuries were obscured by an old rusty car and its belching exhaust pipe.

It was hardly ideal,
but somehow it was ideally hardy.
And a little bit of an inspiration.

We gathered up the Black-Eyed Susan volunteers and gave them a new home this summer. These little clumps of flowers that managed to live and thrive even when their home was nothing more than a crack in the driveway now enjoy a brand new flower bed at the front of the yard. They have good soil and room to grow. Right now they are looking very ragged because they were moved when the temperatures were high and we were desperate for rain. But if you walk past our yard and worry that these flowers are not going to make it, you need to remember there is strength and life beneath the soil. After all, they had grown in broken places. And as a wise woman once said, that takes strength and courage. Even for a flower.


Perhaps strength doesn't reside in
having never been broken
but in the courage required to grow strong
in the broken places.

Wisdom, artwork and inspiration courtesy of Soul Soup

Broken Places


This summer, the black-eyed susans were everywhere. Everywhere, that is, where they had never been before. Several years ago we got two plants, and now there were clumps of volunteers all over the place. Whether it was the birds or a stiff breeze or some unseen hand, we discovered them here, there and everywhere, in the most unusual places.

One of the more robust clumps was firmly entrenched in a crack in the driveway. I wondered how the heck it got there, but it wasn't saying. It just stood there, big and healthy in a tiny, hard space. I'm no master gardener, but to the best of my knowledge, driveway gardening has never been recommended by the experts, unless the plant lives in a pot filled with good soil that sits on or near the driveway. But never in it.

Even the crack was lacking. It wasn't a regular deeply-scored division of the cement. It was a jagged, ugly crack: a fissure in the cement that betrayed the fact that even this rock-hard surface wasn't strong enough to withstand the constant freezing and thawing of a Michigan winter.

But no matter. The Black-Eyed Susans thrived despite the lack of everything necessary for a plant. There was no space to grow and no dirt. And while the sun shone on it and the occasional breeze blew, more often than not those luxuries were obscured by an old rusty car and its belching exhaust pipe.

It was hardly ideal,
but somehow it was ideally hardy.
And a little bit of an inspiration.

We gathered up the Black-Eyed Susan volunteers and gave them a new home this summer. These little clumps of flowers that managed to live and thrive even when their home was nothing more than a crack in the driveway now enjoy a brand new flower bed at the front of the yard. They have good soil and room to grow. Right now they are looking very ragged because they were moved when the temperatures were high and we were desperate for rain. But if you walk past our yard and worry that these flowers are not going to make it, you need to remember there is strength and life beneath the soil. After all, they had grown in broken places. And as a wise woman once said, that takes strength and courage. Even for a flower.


Perhaps strength doesn't reside in
having never been broken
but in the courage required to grow strong
in the broken places.

Wisdom, artwork and inspiration courtesy of Soul Soup

Monday, August 20, 2007

News from the Wafflehouse

It it's not salmonella in the peanut butter, it's nine million lead-based toys or toothpaste laden with chemicals commonly found in antifreeze. What's a tuna to do?

We've already dumped the junk and gone organic. The next step is just outside my door.
It's time to become a Localvore.

More details at Waffles of Compromise.

News from the Wafflehouse

It it's not salmonella in the peanut butter, it's nine million lead-based toys or toothpaste laden with chemicals commonly found in antifreeze. What's a tuna to do?

We've already dumped the junk and gone organic. The next step is just outside my door.
It's time to become a Localvore.

More details at Waffles of Compromise.

Friday, August 17, 2007

One Tuna Beats a King

There are some days when the best you can do is know that if you were Elvis, you'd have already been dead for the past three years.

So I guess that's something, right?

One Tuna Beats a King

There are some days when the best you can do is know that if you were Elvis, you'd have already been dead for the past three years.

So I guess that's something, right?

Friday, August 10, 2007

Friday's Feast

When was the last time I did a Friday Feast? For. Ever. Ago. That's when.
What's for grub?

Appetizer: What is your favorite kind of pie?
Ha! And again I say, HA! I didn't even know this was the first question before I started. Well, of course, everybody knows my LEAST FAVORITE MINCE-PIE-FACE-PIE is Mince. My most favorite? Mostest mostest MOSTEST favorite? Blueberry, baby. I've had a birthday blueberry pie instead of cake for as long as I can remember. I also like just about every other pie you can think of (apple, cherry, peach, chocolate cream, key lime, coconut cream, banana cream, etc. etc.) except Rhubarb. That face is just as bad as Mince. And if anybody tells you all you need is Strawberries and then it tastes good ... it's a LIE.

Added yummy points if you always say Pah, Pah, Pah, Pah, PAH like you're Andy Griffith.


Soup: Name something that made you smile this week
Well, there was the God owning a fridge thing, there was TeenTuna being super happy and relaxed back at camp, and there was a phone call inviting me to go up north today while Scout does a gig. I'm a roadie!


Salad: What do you do to cool off when the weather is hot and humid?
You know, if I stopped all normal activity every time the weather was hot and humid (which in Michigan tends to be all summer) I'd get nothing done. What do I do? What I usually do. But maybe I do it a little slower and with a bit more youthful glow. If that doesn't work, I just turn the hose on myself. It works.


Main Room: You receive $1000 in the mail that says you can only redecorate one room in your house. Which room do you pick, and what do you buy to spruce it up?
I pick my living room, and then I go to the store and buy a case of Mikes, a side of beef and the best flame-thrower in town. I invite all my friends over and we have a party while we set my living room rug on fire. Not only would be it be a huge improvement, there would be Mikes, so everyone would be happy no matter what it looked like.


Dessert: Fill in the blanks: My _____ says _____, but I ______.
My weather icon says Mostly Sunny, 79, but I keep looking for a hose because it's hot and humid.

Friday's Feast

When was the last time I did a Friday Feast? For. Ever. Ago. That's when.
What's for grub?

Appetizer: What is your favorite kind of pie?
Ha! And again I say, HA! I didn't even know this was the first question before I started. Well, of course, everybody knows my LEAST FAVORITE MINCE-PIE-FACE-PIE is Mince. My most favorite? Mostest mostest MOSTEST favorite? Blueberry, baby. I've had a birthday blueberry pie instead of cake for as long as I can remember. I also like just about every other pie you can think of (apple, cherry, peach, chocolate cream, key lime, coconut cream, banana cream, etc. etc.) except Rhubarb. That face is just as bad as Mince. And if anybody tells you all you need is Strawberries and then it tastes good ... it's a LIE.

Added yummy points if you always say Pah, Pah, Pah, Pah, PAH like you're Andy Griffith.


Soup: Name something that made you smile this week
Well, there was the God owning a fridge thing, there was TeenTuna being super happy and relaxed back at camp, and there was a phone call inviting me to go up north today while Scout does a gig. I'm a roadie!


Salad: What do you do to cool off when the weather is hot and humid?
You know, if I stopped all normal activity every time the weather was hot and humid (which in Michigan tends to be all summer) I'd get nothing done. What do I do? What I usually do. But maybe I do it a little slower and with a bit more youthful glow. If that doesn't work, I just turn the hose on myself. It works.


Main Room: You receive $1000 in the mail that says you can only redecorate one room in your house. Which room do you pick, and what do you buy to spruce it up?
I pick my living room, and then I go to the store and buy a case of Mikes, a side of beef and the best flame-thrower in town. I invite all my friends over and we have a party while we set my living room rug on fire. Not only would be it be a huge improvement, there would be Mikes, so everyone would be happy no matter what it looked like.


Dessert: Fill in the blanks: My _____ says _____, but I ______.
My weather icon says Mostly Sunny, 79, but I keep looking for a hose because it's hot and humid.

Testing the Waters

I just dipped my toes in the pool of political blogging over at Waffles of Compromise, one of my other blogs I created because the name was too cool to pass up. It's a little early to know what the blog will be when it grows up, but whereas I do lean a little lefty, I do it from the middle of the road. In other words, don't expect high-charged rantings and ravings. There are lots of other sites that do that dance way better than I.

Go on, take a look. Yesterdays topic: Michigan Anti-Bullying Legislation.

You don't have to be nice to me there. But if you want to, I wouldn't mind.

Testing the Waters

I just dipped my toes in the pool of political blogging over at Waffles of Compromise, one of my other blogs I created because the name was too cool to pass up. It's a little early to know what the blog will be when it grows up, but whereas I do lean a little lefty, I do it from the middle of the road. In other words, don't expect high-charged rantings and ravings. There are lots of other sites that do that dance way better than I.

Go on, take a look. Yesterdays topic: Michigan Anti-Bullying Legislation.

You don't have to be nice to me there. But if you want to, I wouldn't mind.

Thursday, August 09, 2007

Best Bunk, Baby

TeenTuna is now singing in the woods. We got there early enough that she got the BEST BUNK IN THE WHOLE CABIN, which earned me one "Mom you Rock" and one "Thanks for going early so I could get the BEST BUNK IN THE WHOLE CABIN." Yay me. Of course all those kind words were later redacted when Yay Mom started embarrassing her coolness by you know, being near her, speaking and breathing. I'm telling you, this mom stuff can be harsh.

But I didn't care. Evidently she gets to sing and hum all day long, but if I start singing something I get the big bug eyes and the clenched teeth orders to STOP IT. I usually look at her and say no, but that doesn't stop her from informing me that I'm ruining her life. I'm pretty sure I'm responsible for global warming, too.

I will admit once we got her up there and settled I was feeling a bit lippy. As it got nearer to audition time, the singers assembled to hear how the process would work. Before the official presentation, the counselors were explaining to those of us gathered there early that they would ask for a volunteer to do an audition demonstration for the kids. Another counselor chimed in with a har-dee-har-har saying, "Well, maybe we'll get a parent volunteer. I wonder if there are any parents who would like to audition...yuk yuk yuk..." This of course set me into a muttering frenzy as I yammered, "...yeah I'll audition. I'll singing whatever you want me to sing. I'll sing you under the table and then eat you for lunch. What do you want? A little Verdi? A little Wagner? Don't you dare me. Bring it on, little man...."

...Which instantly prompted another clenched-teeth chorus of, "MOM! STOP IT!!"

So I did.

Otherwise, things went well. She got the holy bunk of Antioch, she got in and out of her auditions quickly, she saw lots and lots of friends and with a cursory hug, she practically shoved us down the path so she could be with her people. I hope she has a fabulous time.

In my sun-addled haze driving home, I drove past a couple of head-swivelling signs. The first was a billboard loudly proclaiming DaVinci Hysterectomy. I did a classic Scooby-Doo HUH?? as I drove by and then burst into hysterics. GramTuna had missed most of it, so I tried to explain it to her. Come to find out that there really is such a thing and oh, I just don't understand sometimes, because even though it wasn't much of a smile, it sure wasn't an out and out frowny face, now was it? I think not.


Anyway, the perplexity of Renaissance Surgical Techniques was soon replaced by the SAY WHAT? -ness of a local church sign. You know the ones where they have the profound witty sayings on the front that are supposed to make you go Hmmm and then make you go to church. Yeah, those. So, this particular sign said the following:

If God had a Fridge,
Would your picture be on it?

Holy whuh? Why does God need a Fridge? Is it hot in heaven? How hot? It's not supposed to be hot in heaven. What does he have that will spoil? Will we have to clean it out? Where does he plug it in? And what picture do you mean? Is it a milk-carton I'm missing picture? Am I supposed to draw a picture and give it to God? Do I need school picture reprints? Can I just give him one of DaVinci's? But yeah, not one of those belly frowny faced things. I wouldn't put that on my fridge either. I do not understand the moral implication of this question at all. Refrigerators are not covered in Leviticus.

After that GramTuna and I decided there was only one thing to do. We got off the highway and took the back roads home. The cornfields are so much less demanding of both body and soul.

Best Bunk, Baby

TeenTuna is now singing in the woods. We got there early enough that she got the BEST BUNK IN THE WHOLE CABIN, which earned me one "Mom you Rock" and one "Thanks for going early so I could get the BEST BUNK IN THE WHOLE CABIN." Yay me. Of course all those kind words were later redacted when Yay Mom started embarrassing her coolness by you know, being near her, speaking and breathing. I'm telling you, this mom stuff can be harsh.

But I didn't care. Evidently she gets to sing and hum all day long, but if I start singing something I get the big bug eyes and the clenched teeth orders to STOP IT. I usually look at her and say no, but that doesn't stop her from informing me that I'm ruining her life. I'm pretty sure I'm responsible for global warming, too.

I will admit once we got her up there and settled I was feeling a bit lippy. As it got nearer to audition time, the singers assembled to hear how the process would work. Before the official presentation, the counselors were explaining to those of us gathered there early that they would ask for a volunteer to do an audition demonstration for the kids. Another counselor chimed in with a har-dee-har-har saying, "Well, maybe we'll get a parent volunteer. I wonder if there are any parents who would like to audition...yuk yuk yuk..." This of course set me into a muttering frenzy as I yammered, "...yeah I'll audition. I'll singing whatever you want me to sing. I'll sing you under the table and then eat you for lunch. What do you want? A little Verdi? A little Wagner? Don't you dare me. Bring it on, little man...."

...Which instantly prompted another clenched-teeth chorus of, "MOM! STOP IT!!"

So I did.

Otherwise, things went well. She got the holy bunk of Antioch, she got in and out of her auditions quickly, she saw lots and lots of friends and with a cursory hug, she practically shoved us down the path so she could be with her people. I hope she has a fabulous time.

In my sun-addled haze driving home, I drove past a couple of head-swivelling signs. The first was a billboard loudly proclaiming DaVinci Hysterectomy. I did a classic Scooby-Doo HUH?? as I drove by and then burst into hysterics. GramTuna had missed most of it, so I tried to explain it to her. Come to find out that there really is such a thing and oh, I just don't understand sometimes, because even though it wasn't much of a smile, it sure wasn't an out and out frowny face, now was it? I think not.


Anyway, the perplexity of Renaissance Surgical Techniques was soon replaced by the SAY WHAT? -ness of a local church sign. You know the ones where they have the profound witty sayings on the front that are supposed to make you go Hmmm and then make you go to church. Yeah, those. So, this particular sign said the following:

If God had a Fridge,
Would your picture be on it?

Holy whuh? Why does God need a Fridge? Is it hot in heaven? How hot? It's not supposed to be hot in heaven. What does he have that will spoil? Will we have to clean it out? Where does he plug it in? And what picture do you mean? Is it a milk-carton I'm missing picture? Am I supposed to draw a picture and give it to God? Do I need school picture reprints? Can I just give him one of DaVinci's? But yeah, not one of those belly frowny faced things. I wouldn't put that on my fridge either. I do not understand the moral implication of this question at all. Refrigerators are not covered in Leviticus.

After that GramTuna and I decided there was only one thing to do. We got off the highway and took the back roads home. The cornfields are so much less demanding of both body and soul.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

She Shall Have Music Wherever She Goes

Tomorrow morning we'll be driving TeenTuna to camp. She'll be gone for ten days, making music and friends in the woods of Northern Michigan. What could be better?

This is her second year, so she is already familiar with all the things they never tell you in the orientation packet. We are leaving extra, extra early tomorrow so she can get a prime bunk, which, for the uniformed or ignorantly apathetic in the crowd is NOT the bottom bunk at the back of the cabin which is directly across from the door and OMG when people go in and out of the cabin the light totally shines on you every single time and you can never sleep and I DON'T WANT TO HAVE THAT BUNK AGAIN SO CAN WE LEAVE AT 5?

(Answer: No)

Last summer was TeenTuna's Most Excellent Adventure, and music camp was one of three trips she took within a five-week time period. This summer it is her only outing, which I think makes it that much more exciting. She has spent much of the summer at the office, and while she has been a trooper about the whole thing, it really isn't that much fun for a 13-year old. Heck, much of the time it really isn't that much fun for the mother of a 13-year old, but at least I have a paycheck to soothe the pain.

Even though TeenTuna will spend much of her time rehearsing (which I hate) with the Four Insects of the Apocalypse (mosquitoes, spiders, bees and middle-school boys), I have to admit I'm a little envious of her time. It's an incredible gift to be able to immerse yourself in your passion.

While she's gone I won't have any problems keeping busy. Between work, home, Scout, and projects both inside, outside and upside-down, I won't be bored. My basement alone has enough cleaning projects and memory-filled lonely socks to last a lifetime. And even though I won't miss the TeenTuna's Angel to Devil in 2.5 seconds routine, I'll miss the music of her life that sweeps into mine almost unnoticed like the gentlest of breezes.

I can't wait until she leaves.
I can't wait until she comes back.
Same song. Second verse.

Happy Trails, kiddo. Sing loud.

She Shall Have Music Wherever She Goes

Tomorrow morning we'll be driving TeenTuna to camp. She'll be gone for ten days, making music and friends in the woods of Northern Michigan. What could be better?

This is her second year, so she is already familiar with all the things they never tell you in the orientation packet. We are leaving extra, extra early tomorrow so she can get a prime bunk, which, for the uniformed or ignorantly apathetic in the crowd is NOT the bottom bunk at the back of the cabin which is directly across from the door and OMG when people go in and out of the cabin the light totally shines on you every single time and you can never sleep and I DON'T WANT TO HAVE THAT BUNK AGAIN SO CAN WE LEAVE AT 5?

(Answer: No)

Last summer was TeenTuna's Most Excellent Adventure, and music camp was one of three trips she took within a five-week time period. This summer it is her only outing, which I think makes it that much more exciting. She has spent much of the summer at the office, and while she has been a trooper about the whole thing, it really isn't that much fun for a 13-year old. Heck, much of the time it really isn't that much fun for the mother of a 13-year old, but at least I have a paycheck to soothe the pain.

Even though TeenTuna will spend much of her time rehearsing (which I hate) with the Four Insects of the Apocalypse (mosquitoes, spiders, bees and middle-school boys), I have to admit I'm a little envious of her time. It's an incredible gift to be able to immerse yourself in your passion.

While she's gone I won't have any problems keeping busy. Between work, home, Scout, and projects both inside, outside and upside-down, I won't be bored. My basement alone has enough cleaning projects and memory-filled lonely socks to last a lifetime. And even though I won't miss the TeenTuna's Angel to Devil in 2.5 seconds routine, I'll miss the music of her life that sweeps into mine almost unnoticed like the gentlest of breezes.

I can't wait until she leaves.
I can't wait until she comes back.
Same song. Second verse.

Happy Trails, kiddo. Sing loud.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Surfs Up!

It's time for another installment of

WHAT THE HELL WERE THEY THINKING?


The World of Fashion



Brought to my attention by my fashion-forward partner in crime, Mensch, we spent a goodly amount of time in hysterics over these. Lest you think these are stylish frocks for the summer Lunch Lady, let me assure you, it gets better. They are bathing suits.

Oh yes.

Thanks to our friends at WholesomeWear Styles modestly styled bathing suits are available to satisfy the repressed Victorian in all of us. And never you fear, in case you think these styles are still so suggestive that it will send the manfolk to shave their beads and buy a Mediterranean Style Console TV, they offer suits in Extra Mod(est).


As a perfect accompaniment, The Washington Post had a great write-up on this particular clothing line back in July, 2006.

The makers of WholesomeWear swimsuits would like women to cover up their tummies. And their backs. And their arms. And half their legs. The Oregon company, based outside Portland, sells a collection of swimwear online that consists of a wet suit topped by a dress.

There is an option with the slimming suit to extend the sleeves below the elbows and to lower the hem so it ends just above the ankles. A woman would be swimming in something akin to a choir robe.

The company may not be preaching to a specific denomination, but it is nonetheless preaching. Ferguson describes her family as "Christian people who love the Lord." And the swimsuits are "a ministry."

A person has to have strong convictions "to wear our suits," she says. If you have those convictions, "you're not going to care about the liberation or if you get persecuted and made fun of.

A bathing suit ministry? I pretty sure something like this is NOT sanctioned in the book of Leviticus. And excuse me for saying so, but that last paragraph about strong convictions and not caring if you're PERSECUTED AND MADE FUN OF FOR CRYING OUT LOUD is exactly the kind of backwards logic my child uses when she wants to wear black dress socks yanked halfway up her calves with a pair of shorts. There is no reason to look like a 75 year old man when you're only 13.

Finally, if own the suits or love the suits or think it's the bestest idea ever, huzzah. It just seems to me that dealing with industrial strength spandex (and even worse WET industrial strength spandex), it would be so much easier to enjoy water sports at home in the privacy of ones own shower. Alone. With the lights out.


The Wonderful World of Crafts

Yes, it's been awhile since I've hazed the cross-stitch industry, but Lizzie Borden and Animal Graveyard pictures don't come along every day (and by the way...BSTuna gave me the Animal Graveyard pattern for my birthday. Don't you think I'm NOT doing this...it's AWESOME!)
Luckily, a few new horrors popped up in the last few weeks that are worth taunting mentioning.

Samplers can be commemorative or decorative. They can be simple or very ornate. Long ago they were learning pieces that included a moralistic message. We stitch samplers for all sorts of reasons, but speaking for myself, the day I start sewing a TACO is the day I need to find something better to do with my time.

Like sew a moose on a motorcycle.


Or Frankenstein taking a dump on a stump
pondering whether the Charmin should go over or under.



Thank you Internets.
Everyday is like a little slice of heaven.

Surfs Up!

It's time for another installment of

WHAT THE HELL WERE THEY THINKING?


The World of Fashion



Brought to my attention by my fashion-forward partner in crime, Mensch, we spent a goodly amount of time in hysterics over these. Lest you think these are stylish frocks for the summer Lunch Lady, let me assure you, it gets better. They are bathing suits.

Oh yes.

Thanks to our friends at WholesomeWear Styles modestly styled bathing suits are available to satisfy the repressed Victorian in all of us. And never you fear, in case you think these styles are still so suggestive that it will send the manfolk to shave their beads and buy a Mediterranean Style Console TV, they offer suits in Extra Mod(est).


As a perfect accompaniment, The Washington Post had a great write-up on this particular clothing line back in July, 2006.

The makers of WholesomeWear swimsuits would like women to cover up their tummies. And their backs. And their arms. And half their legs. The Oregon company, based outside Portland, sells a collection of swimwear online that consists of a wet suit topped by a dress.

There is an option with the slimming suit to extend the sleeves below the elbows and to lower the hem so it ends just above the ankles. A woman would be swimming in something akin to a choir robe.

The company may not be preaching to a specific denomination, but it is nonetheless preaching. Ferguson describes her family as "Christian people who love the Lord." And the swimsuits are "a ministry."

A person has to have strong convictions "to wear our suits," she says. If you have those convictions, "you're not going to care about the liberation or if you get persecuted and made fun of.

A bathing suit ministry? I pretty sure something like this is NOT sanctioned in the book of Leviticus. And excuse me for saying so, but that last paragraph about strong convictions and not caring if you're PERSECUTED AND MADE FUN OF FOR CRYING OUT LOUD is exactly the kind of backwards logic my child uses when she wants to wear black dress socks yanked halfway up her calves with a pair of shorts. There is no reason to look like a 75 year old man when you're only 13.

Finally, if own the suits or love the suits or think it's the bestest idea ever, huzzah. It just seems to me that dealing with industrial strength spandex (and even worse WET industrial strength spandex), it would be so much easier to enjoy water sports at home in the privacy of ones own shower. Alone. With the lights out.


The Wonderful World of Crafts

Yes, it's been awhile since I've hazed the cross-stitch industry, but Lizzie Borden and Animal Graveyard pictures don't come along every day (and by the way...BSTuna gave me the Animal Graveyard pattern for my birthday. Don't you think I'm NOT doing this...it's AWESOME!)
Luckily, a few new horrors popped up in the last few weeks that are worth taunting mentioning.

Samplers can be commemorative or decorative. They can be simple or very ornate. Long ago they were learning pieces that included a moralistic message. We stitch samplers for all sorts of reasons, but speaking for myself, the day I start sewing a TACO is the day I need to find something better to do with my time.

Like sew a moose on a motorcycle.


Or Frankenstein taking a dump on a stump
pondering whether the Charmin should go over or under.



Thank you Internets.
Everyday is like a little slice of heaven.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Master Plan

Another 12 days and honestly, it's more of the same. I'm cleaning, working, mothering, cleaning, teaching, wishing I wasn't working, mothering, cleaning, cleaning, gardening, praying for rain that never comes, cleaning, more dishes to wash??, resting, sleeping, not sleeping, and so on and so on and so on.

Really, it's nothing particularly exciting to report.

Like most major cleaning projects it is constant step-forward, step-backwards proposition. You just pray every day that the forward steps will at least equal and hopefully outnumber the backwards steps. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. The trick is, on the losing days, to adequately convince yourself that setbacks happen, and that battles and wars are two different things. I guess it means that sometimes it's the Civil War and sometimes it's the War of Northern Aggression. Fiddle-dee-dee.

I don't really know why 1. I'm so gung-ho on cleaning this summer, and, 2. Why I'm actually making progress. Mensch declared I was nesting which, while it was an interesting theory, I rejected out of hand, because I always associate the word nesting with other things which ARE NOT HAPPENING, THANK YOU.

But the nest (such that it is) is slowly but surely ridding itself of clutter and noise and confusion. And as I clean I find little treasures, AKA stuff I have forgotten I ever had. On the one hand, it makes me angry that I've been so neglectful over the years, but on the other hand, it's exciting to discover something all over again.

I'd like to say that this massive project was accompanied by any sort of master plan. It didn't. I just knew the time was right to sort and toss and clean and organize. And so what if I don't have a master plan? All I know is with every paper filed, shredded or recycled, I am one step closer. Getting rid of clutter is downright empowering. My house is happier, my family is happier and I'm happier. Maybe that's plan enough.


Everything changed
the day she figured out
there was exactly enough time
for the important things in her life.

Master Plan

Another 12 days and honestly, it's more of the same. I'm cleaning, working, mothering, cleaning, teaching, wishing I wasn't working, mothering, cleaning, cleaning, gardening, praying for rain that never comes, cleaning, more dishes to wash??, resting, sleeping, not sleeping, and so on and so on and so on.

Really, it's nothing particularly exciting to report.

Like most major cleaning projects it is constant step-forward, step-backwards proposition. You just pray every day that the forward steps will at least equal and hopefully outnumber the backwards steps. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. The trick is, on the losing days, to adequately convince yourself that setbacks happen, and that battles and wars are two different things. I guess it means that sometimes it's the Civil War and sometimes it's the War of Northern Aggression. Fiddle-dee-dee.

I don't really know why 1. I'm so gung-ho on cleaning this summer, and, 2. Why I'm actually making progress. Mensch declared I was nesting which, while it was an interesting theory, I rejected out of hand, because I always associate the word nesting with other things which ARE NOT HAPPENING, THANK YOU.

But the nest (such that it is) is slowly but surely ridding itself of clutter and noise and confusion. And as I clean I find little treasures, AKA stuff I have forgotten I ever had. On the one hand, it makes me angry that I've been so neglectful over the years, but on the other hand, it's exciting to discover something all over again.

I'd like to say that this massive project was accompanied by any sort of master plan. It didn't. I just knew the time was right to sort and toss and clean and organize. And so what if I don't have a master plan? All I know is with every paper filed, shredded or recycled, I am one step closer. Getting rid of clutter is downright empowering. My house is happier, my family is happier and I'm happier. Maybe that's plan enough.


Everything changed
the day she figured out
there was exactly enough time
for the important things in her life.