I Used To Be Able To Sleep

But now the sky is so big and gray and bright.

School Daze

The first day went jes' fine. My 201s made their own blogs and my 101 night class seems pretty hip. So far, I've got a farmer, lots of paramedics and bankers, and one wedding dj.

One thing:

I've been saying "See you next Tuesday!" all day long.

Life in a Northern Town

I made one last summer trip home with my sister and nephew. Lots of fun family stuff.

Me and the boys "hiking" in the Badlands:


View:


Randy and Sam playing:


Our neighbor, Raymie Kessel, is in the honeybee business and has hives on our land. The only water for miles is found in my dogs water dish and the birdbaths:


Sam showed us how big he is:


So did Great-Aunt Bernie:


I played pool with some morons:


Me and Sam watched the Olympics:


Sam smiled a lot:


Grandpa and Sam:


Jackie O and Sam:


We did some porch-sitting:

Oh, and also...

It's gray outside today and I, too, am a little gray. I am having a fight with my neighbor about his parking antics, but not a verbal fight. It is taking all of my willpower not to accidentally run the lawnmower up the passenger side of his SUV. I also feel like I am having all sorts of nonverbal fights with all sorts of people, and it's worn me down, like a road, like Rachel Yamagata says.

I am also missing the water.

I am also about 11 pounds from the goal I set about 14 months ago (I know it's obnoxi to talk about this, but I'm gonna), but the scale needle has not moved in months. I am the definition of plateau. I am also a huge fan of good food.

I am also a little:

anxious about the new school year
excited to meet new students
hoping the new students don't suck
dreading NoDesire2Learn


I also kind of need glasses, according to my first eye appointment in 10 years. This is fine, mostly, because I am a sucker for new, cute accessories. But trying on all those pairs yesterday made me feel a little old. Also, my brother called me a school marm.

Which is mostly fine, too.

I Am Why I Can't Have Nice Things.

I washed my iPod.

Soak, rinse, spin cycle, the whole effing shebang. Would have dried it, too, if I didn't hear something clanking around in the dryer.

I am trying to dry it out and resisting the urge, on one hand, to write Apple a strongly-worded letter on the hazards of selling such cute, sleek, small, lightweight products, (A Newsweek reporter is sure he threw out his MacBook Air with the Sunday newspaper) and, on the other hand, to book it Wal-Mart and buy a new one.

I am an idiot.

Go for Gold

While watching 5 hours of gymnastics and swimming last night, I made up a new Olympic sport.

Easy-chair Rhythmic Gymnastics with a Basketball.

It looks just like this:



Except I don't stretch like that, it's done in a green armchair as opposed to a springy floor, and of course, I use a beat-up, kinda flat basketball.

Our guests, Rox and Jefe, were very impressed.

Also, the men's gymnastic team from China are gods.

America, Eff Yeah!

In honor of the Olympics and watching Michael Phelps' ridiculously huge shoulders and the Italian Pellegrini shatter world records in her prelims (for God's sake!!), I attacked my lap swim today with exceptional vigor. I don't want to sound arrogant, but I think my sidestroke could easily beat any reasonably in-shape 10 year old's.

Pick an apple, put it in my basket. Pick an apple ...

The Olympics make me jingoistic, rightfully so, I think. I've totally been into all sports lately, from watching beach volleyball, which is probably one of the most strenuous sports in the history of the world to bringing up old clips of slam-dunk contests on YouTube.

You want chills? Go watch Michael Jordan back up to the other end of the court, slowly turn a jog into a full-fledged sprint, and then jump from the free throw line to the basket. The man actually flew. Want more chills? Find the clip of past Opening Ceremonies when the flaming arrow lights the torch.

I am also two-for-two in real life Scrabble games. Holla.