Oprah vs the Board of Education

That title looks like a lawsuit or something. Actually, it’s in reference to my trying to watch Oprah this week. I know, I know; one week I’m totally annoyed with her and the next I’m TIVO’ing. The only reason I’m TIVO’ing is because I had two BOE meetings to go to and, dang it, why can’t they have these meetings later? It’s cuttin’ into my Oprah time. Most other parents have complained that they would like the meetings to be later because they have jobs. Yeah, I need to get with the job program versus the TIVO’ing programming. Heh!

(I do have a job on the hook however, we are waiting for the regional HR person to get back from vacation to approve the wage. It’s workin’ for me ’cause the kids are on Spring Break next week. Hopefully, I’ll hear a yay or nay by then.)

This week’s Oprah shows are repeats but I don’t care; they are hilarious. Oprah and Gayle are on their road trip and I don’t think I’ve laughed out loud this much EVER over an Oprah show. It has totally caused me to fly out the door late for both meetings (well, okay, we also had parent/teacher conferences and a vehicle break-down) and have to drive like a maniac in the rain. I wasn’t the only one. Man, people do not know how to drive in the rain!

Do you ever get really excited over something so mundane that you question your sanity (or affirm your need to get a damned job)? This has happened twice this week in the form of shampoo. Yes; shampoo. And lip gloss. Yes; lip gloss. S and my mom and I had our manny/peddy/eye-brow-waxin’ this week and I’m more excited about new shampoo and lip gloss. Good times!

I found the most faboo lip gloss but ya’ll don’t really care about that, now do ya? It’s got shea butter in it… fabuloso smooth. Hey, YOU try living in this dry climate and try to figure out what kind of lipstick to wear. I think Maybelline should come to Albuquerque and check out how much business they are missing by not pandering to the crater-lipped women here. I’ve been doing my own informal survey and, man-o-man, someone needs to do some edumakating on the values of lip gloss and chapstick. This could be why a lot of people appear to be speaking out of both sides of their mouths. Or, am I imagining this? I always feel like I’m talking to Abigail Van Buren (Dear Abby) as so many people seem so side-mouthed-affected. Huh.

I was late for the BOE meeting Wednesday night. Between parent/teacher conferences, Oprah, the rain, and a bunch of dumb asses on the freeway, I walked into the meeting ten minutes late. As soon as I walked my rain-soaked, doo-reactivated, lip-glossless self into the building, I was asked if I would “Please, Please…” do an interview with the TV news crew about the anti-bullying policy. In my best deer-in-the-headlights-fashion, I said, “Sure. But can you photoshop me and only get me from the neck up ’cause these are the same clothes I had on at the parent/teacher conferences and I have mustard and Magic Marker all over me.”

WTF was I thinkin’? I did okay and the kids, who watched it the next morning ’cause we TIVO’d it, thought I was a movie star. All I could think of was, “Oh. Is THAT what I look like?”

God. Ahh… all for the greater good… (whatever) and I sure wish more parents would show-up to these things but nooooooo… ’cause… they all have joooooooooobbbbbssss…. pffftttt.

Our van blew-up yesterday. The blitch. S drove through some running water (it was raining buckets) and suddenly, all of the bells and whistles and check engine lights and temperature gauges went crazy. She (barely) made it home and there she (the van, not S) sits… dripping green gunk. So, today we are managing a tow truck driver and service department; all of whom will receive nasty letters after the danged blitch is flixed. (Has anyone else noticed that I’m writing in some kind of strange affect today?) There’s nuthin’ like yer vehicle blowin’-up to make yer day. Blastards

We just got a call from the social worker at the school. Evidently, oldest is in the middle of a melt-down because, “I don’t have my red folder!! I don’t have my red folder!!” WTF? He’s supposed to be in the middle of reading and he’s melting down over an administrative issue. The social worker wants to “reassure” him about his damned red folder and I told her to go ahead; we’ve already assured him a bazillion times to no avail. Somehow he got it in his head that if we didn’t fill out the forms in the now infamous red folder, he wouldn’t be able to get into the fifth grade. *sigh* The kid can’t (won’t) brush his own hair in the morning but he can worry about administrative duties. Maybe I should re-focus him on the new shampoo?

From the parent/teacher conference… According to middle child’s teacher, he’s only heard that little Leprechaun voice a couple of times and he’s had to have a conversation with him once about… wait for it… the urinals in the boy’s bathroom. Huh? Are the urinal cakes talking to him and he’s trying to talk back? Nope. He’s standing back, about 4 or 5 feet, and showing off how far he can pee… and hit the bullseye. So, there we all are, trying to not laugh until finally, we all just crack up. Between giggles, I tried to get what really happened.

Okay, so, let me get this straight: you’ve heard him talking in that little Leprechaun voice while standing 4-5 feet away from the urinal and hitting the bullseye? No, no; the Leprechaun voices happen in the classroom. Oh, okay, so, you were in the bathroom with him? (I’m thinkin’, what in the hell does this have to do with his academic achievements?) No, some kids told on him. Ohhhhhhhhh… okay. So, Mr. M had to have a “little talk” with middle child about how showing off how far he can pee is not appropriate.

Oh. My. Lord. What is wrong with this child? His teacher says he’s going to get clocked, once he’s in middle school, if he doesn’t get a little maturity under his belt. He actually said it just like that; under his belt. Well, Mr. M, we are all going about this in the wrong way; let’s leave the “under his belt” stuff out of it and tell him to quit fooling around while pee’ing. (The more I deal with this, the more I know that I totally had no idea what I was signing on for…)

Youngest has suddenly become quite verbose. The other night, we were all eating dinner and youngest began waving his arms around and talking what we all thought was a bunch of gibberish. Upon closer inspection, I realized that he was signing (sign language) the alphabet and singing the alphabet song along with it. I know a little sign language and engaged him. He couldn’t believe that I knew what he was doing and we all just laughed and sang along with him. This just made our hearts sing…

Back to my hair: (’cause it’s so damned important, dontcha know) Man, I love this new shampoo. And wouldn’t you know it; the one day I didn’t use it, I was on TV. All the other days, my hair looked fabulous… and then on the fourth day (not the seventh, ya’ll) it (my hair)

R E L A X E D

I guess I didn’t read the instructions very well. I should only use it once or twice a week. It is shampoo designed for black folks hair (which is very, very different from my thin, curly hair) and has olive oil in it. The boys can use it daily but not me; no Siree Bob.

I’ve gone flat.

Damn.

I guess it could be worse: I could be on TV with F L A T hair. I look like a blond-ish version of Chachie’s mom (of “Joanie Loves Chachie” fame) and it’s killin’ me. I hated that show.

Pardon me while I go fluff…