… everything and nothing has changed.

Same:  lotsa dogs, wine, mucho babies at door, reeses being the best, open windows, Day of the Dead, pumpkin pics, awesome husband.

Changed:  BoyChild at college, GirlChild conscripted into school musical, two dogs added, DirectTV in the house, loss of people we love, addition of people we love.

That’s how long it takes to get over a bad 45th birthday.  Just in case you were wondering.And yes I know that sounds like a pity party, but what the hell — I was feeling rather pitiful. The cure:  taking on a new fund-raiser for the babies’ school.  One that hasn’t been done before, and needs to be built from ground-up, but is for the financial aid program (which I love) and can potentially raise hundreds of thousands. So, yeah, that’ll get your mind off the bad birthday bit.  Although the lack of volunteers for silent or live auctions can send you back into a spiral……..   not that I blame the 50 (yes, FIFTY) women on my committee.  Personally I also hate working on the auction business.But since I’m now 45, and all grown-up and shit, it’s time for me to be a kick-ass take-charge kind of hyphenating woman, who embraces all forms of solicitation.  Did that sound wrong? 

I turned 45 on the fourth.  Not happy with that so far.   Urg.  Arg. UGH.  Urk.   

Two days ago a box arrived, addressed to me. The box is from my mama’s hometown. None of this is a huge surprise, given that my birthday is tomorrow (woo-hoooooo!).

So I open the box, and discover the following:

Inside:

Oh my. Truly, my family is the best.

All the Repubs are showing up for their Big Events in blue.  The Shrub showed up for the SotU sporting a lovely light blue tie.  I would even call it ‘periwinkle’.  
  
 Then Mr. Mitt appeared: 
 and Candidate McC with his rather large and enthusiastic striped number: 
   
 So what’s the deal?  For years Republicans have been known for their red ties and red states.  Yet all of a sudden they are sporting blue.  Is blue the new red?  Or are they trying to send us a subliminal message?  ”No, really, I’m not a neo-con.  I’m a reasonable  Repub.  Truuuuuusssst me.” Which all segues rather nicely (backwards) into my last post —

… have this in common:  they are my enemies.  Me no likey, in a rather huge way.  So what is it about the movie with the scary-ass ventriloquist doll that turned into a clown that kept me glued to the tube?   Until 12:30?  And made me scurry up the stairs like a jackrabbit?    Arghhhhhhh.  Truly, at times my brain is that train wreck that you can’t look away from. 

Good Lord I can’t spell anymore.  I actually wrote ‘hugely humerous’.  I suppose I could post about my large humerus, but am thinking that wouldn’t be too interesting.  

 
 The BFF sent me a link to this website Thursday morning.  If it hadn’t been for the two meetings, one luncheon, house-training puppy, carpool, SAT-taking Boy (this morning) who required much sushi-stuffing, and an unfortunate AFD* episode that led me into three hours of creating icons for the drawers I want on my Leopard Stacks (yeah, I know, artist nerd = bad thing), my last 48 hours would have been nothing but bone-rattling hucks.  Seriously.  These people are extremely witty — check out the About them page to figure out who is saying what.My personal favorite so far is the bit about the statue of Britney giving birth on the bear rug – thank you again BFF.   Oh all right — I’ll post the picture, but you have to go to the site and read the blog: 
 
    
 
In other seriously funny news, local high school parents have their panties in a twist about  their principal, who apparently objects to things like, say, SMOKE BOMBS in the halls.  Dang.  Sad to say it’s my alma mater.  So, wondering what the parents at said high school are like?  Well, here’s one — er, two.  Don’t you wish your mom had dressed in that special slutty-dom way?  
 
*AFD = Attention Focus Disorder, where one can’t disengage from an activity, particularly one involving computers or paints.    

…time for Cross-Dressing E.T. to make his appearance.

Have you noticed that women are less happy that they were 35 years ago? Personally, the only women I really registered at the age of nine were my fourth grade teacher Mrs. Lowther, who was the total bomb, and my mom, who had two older kids and was mostly just vague.

Anyway, the Freakonomics guys, whose ideas I find quite fascinating, have referenced a study in their blog today, which claims that women are less happy than they were 35 years ago. I’ve only had time to skim the first part, but am interested to go back and see what ‘kinds’ of women they’re talking about.

The supposition is that women should be happier, post women’s movement, the pill, widespread sales of ildo-dayes, and so on. (So yes I made that last bit up. And yes it’s hard to read — but if the plural calls for an ‘es’, then one should carry the ‘es’ to the end of the pig latin translation, yes? Monkman, please feel free to weigh in).

If we’re talking only about women in Western industrialized nations, then you could assume that reforms had touched the lives of most. But the whole world of women? I can’t imagine trying to quantify and compare happiness between me, for instance, and a mom in Africa whose surviving children are starving. There just isn’t any chance of happiness when your kids are hungry and ailing.