Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Nerdfighters, Stickies and the Pee/Sex Panel

I am an insomniac. When I am thinking about something, I can't sleep until I resolve it. This is a BIG FAT SUCK for writers of novels because you can't just pull an all-nighter and knock out that 60,000 word resolution. I have taken to leaving myself stickies on my computer to remember my late night musings. This has proven to be a bit of a problem because I am not exactly certain what the following stickies mean:

1. Talent Show Cheez Whiz
2. Do love letters from someone who later realizes he is batting for the other team still count?
3. Walgreens, CVS or Rite Aid?
4. Is Minneapolis K and St. Paul W or vice versa?

Sadly, there are a least a dozen more on my desktop. So not such a good solution after all.

I became a Nerdfighter tonight and somehow feel that I have now aligned myself with a bunch of fabulous (no noun needed here---John Green has turned fabulous into every part of speech, it will no doubt be in the new dictionary along with the ridonculous revision of ridiculous). My ten year plan was revised tonight and it now includes meeting other Nerdfighters at Joss Whedon conventions (with me on the Buffy side and them on the Firefly side).

I was on a panel of parents in support of Montessori education last night. After 15 minutes, it became clear that I was invited to be a panel speaker because the school wanted to show new families how well they deal with crazy. I did try to caveat every statement that I made with the disclaimer: "I am that mom" but after awhile, it seemed redundant. At one point, I actually mentioned that the reason that I didn't want my kids going to our local public school was that when our babysitter was at the junior high, she had to hold her pee all day because she kept bumping into kids having sex in the bathrooms. You could hear crickets chirp in that room. I quickly tried to cover this TMI statement by mentioning that my kids were really bad at holding their pee. Outstanding.

My friend Rebecca gave me a bag of her old love letters. They rule. I feel like I am in junior high all over again because I am secretly pissed that she got WAY better love letters than I ever did in school. I have one crappy poem that I found from my pot-growing ex-boyfriend. It is the worst and one day when I am feeling snarky and ambitious, I just might post it here. (Yes, I totally proofread it and it has so many type-o's that you would think a pot smoker wrote it...oh wait).

Happily, my husband rules. Completely. I don't tell him enough but I am still considering the "Julio rocks my world" tattoo.

Today my hair became a little purple and I feel like greatness will soon follow...


Carrie said...

I have those cards too! I usually cannot read my own scrawl and then spend most of my writing time pondering over what things like "X kalks V, charge dog to ram, more terra for the lice" might mean.

That meeting was lucky to have you! I think you should change your disclaimer to "I am that AWESOME mom who doesn't just talk to hear her own voice." Too long?

moljoe said...

Oh, another cool coffee shop is "Blue Moon" on Lake Street by our house...anyway, I love that you were that Montessori Mom. Of course because you know I am too! At a school party last weekend, someone said that if there was a yearbook, I'd be the mom to bring up TMI the most. Ha!


Bruce said...

I know what most of sticky number two means. The answer to number three = CVS. And, speaking of high school love letters, I burnt mine. This is not my blog, so I'll not share the fiery tale. I will, however, make an extraordinary offer: you may contact my high school sweetheart and ask if she kept or burnt my letters. If she has them, you may review them. I cannot believe that I am making this offer sober at 2pm instead of drunk at 2am. Now that we have witnesses, I'm on the hook. Let me know. Finally, go easy on your flame's poem. He wrote it before there were spellcheckers and "Nantuckit" is perfectly understandable.