Pumpkin Mania!

The _____ Annual Pumpkin Party!

The best TA's in the World!

We had a fire, pumpkin beer, and roasted pumpkin seeds. Bridge made savory, muy delicioso pumpkin soup. Our wunnerful, wunnerful friends brought over bread with brie and mango chutney, pumpkin pie, cookies, candy, so many treats!

Lisa, Katy, and I carving it up!

Bio. Dept. Peeps!

I don't know who's cuter: Phillip or his "Mad Surgeon"!


I wish I had a pic of Bridgie to post, but she was too busy running around being totes awesome.

Veddy, veddy cool.

Ew.

This commercial I saw yesterday was very weird.

It started off with a group of 50ish men, all jamming out on instruments--a bass, guitars, drums, piano, I think there was even a trombone. Many wore fedoras and strappy bowling shirts, you know? One man was dressed as a biker, with a red bandana. He didn't really fit in.

They were all singing about their respective "baby" and how they couldn't wait to get home, winking at each other, smiling. Weirdo.

At first, I thought, Hmm ... Applebee's has a new steak? Chili's maybe?

Then, Maybe it's for Prilosec, but wait, no, isn't that the one with the big camper? A Louisiana tourism ad? What in the hell are these guys singing about?

The men finally got to the chorus:

Viva, Viagra!

Viva, Viagra!

Oh. Oh my.

At the end of the commercial, the men all punch it in with each other, race out to their pickups (and for that one dude, his Harley), and tear out of the parking lot.

I guess their Viagra was viva-ing.

I was just thinking, I hope, hope, hope their wives aren't home.

This Week I:

taught one 3-hour class.

drove over 800 miles.

wrote feedback to all my creative writing students.

conferenced 65 freshmen proposal papers.


Who's the effin man now, son?

Street Smarts

Although I will not complain about the rain (because I realize that I grew up on a grain farm in the most drought-ridden corner of NoDak), I will say this:

Rain makes it impossible for me to use cruise control, which makes it impossible for me to stay at a steady speed. I've been going either 57 or 89 mph.

Yesterday it was Dubya on the telly giving me a stroke, today it was Bill O'Reilly on the radio.

Why do I do this to myself? We need some good talk radio around here, people. We need some Air America.

I kinda want to ask SDPB if they would give me 45 minutes a day. I could be the Stephanie Miller/Al Franken of the Dakotas.

What I learned from 3 bumper stickers today:

Freedom. It isn't free.

Children. They are a gift from God.

Marriage. Equals one man and one woman.

Bush League

I woke up this morning, threw on my most formal sweats, and took my creative writing grading out to the couch.

It was about 10 am, and I was looking forward to watching "The View" and writing feedback on my students' poems. Ya'll, I've been loving "The View" lately. It has seriously gotten much, much smarter since Whoopi Goldberg joined the cast.

Anywho, I clicked the TV on and what? No View? What's up? A gd message from the gd president.

Bush gave a press conference, and I think what he wanted was for people to praise him for his veto of the SCHIP bill (health care for each child--he veteod it because he said coverage wasn't available to all, etc., etc. I think he really vetoed it because he's the epitome of no compassion).

No one asked him about SCHIP, though. The reporters (and me) all wanted to know about troops in Iraq, what's the route he plans to take with Iran, and he just blew everyone off. He sat up there so smug, so fucking cocky. He's like a snotty 18 year old that sits in the back and nudges his stupid friends every 45 seconds.

God, I cannot wait until this administration is gone.

(Also, will I know be placed on some sort of list because of this post?)

Opening Day

The Western Edge.

After spending the 4 hours from Fargo to the farm picking out baby names for my nephew (we all agreed on GonnaDressYouUpWithMyLove James), we rolled in at about 8:30 pm mountain time on Friday evening.

My mom and dad didn't know I was coming home, and my mom screamed and bear-hugged me when she saw me. She has such a flair for the dramatic. Must be that wild red hair of hers.

On Saturday morning, most of us suited up for opening day.

Pheasant season, ya'll.

My dad gave me a 12 gauge shotgun, and when we started off, I had it unloaded and the barrel open and he says, "Oh, just put some shells in there and close it already."

I'm a half-hearted hunter. I just like to be out there, walking.

Saturday, October 13th. Opening Day.

6:30 AM

(Me to my brother's fiancee):
"We're gonna need some camo."

8:00 AM

(Me to my brother after I hear shotgun pellets blow by me and I turn around and there stands my brother with his gun pointed in my general direction):
" ...Dude ... "

9:15 AM

(Me to my dad who, once again, did not believe me when I spotted the mountain lion):
"Fine. Don't believe me and when that thing is chewing your leg off, I'll be sitting here laughing."

9:45 AM

(Me to the group)
"I'm done. Don't mistake me for a pheasant. Jesus Christ."

9:30 PM

(My brother to me):
"Let's go, we're going to Mike's!"

Mike's Bar, Oct. 13th. Ladies Night.

10:00 PM

(My brother to the table):
"There may be females here, but I guarantee you there are no ladies."

10:45 PM

(My brother-in-law-to the table as we all watched this group of women do the dirtiest, skankiest dances with each other):
"I bet that blonde girl's vagina is this big." (Hold up hands equivalent to the size of an apple pie.)

All night

(Everyone to everyone):
"Goddamn, I love this bar!"

1:25 AM

(Me to my brother as we pull up to SuperPumper):
"Goddamn it, Michael, I am not waiting for you to order no taco or burrito. Just get your chew and get back here. I want to go home."

1:26 AM

(Me to myself as I watch my brother walk to the back of the store and order food):
"I hate him."

It was nice to be at the farm. The leaves are turning, there's still water in the crick, and I got to see just about everybody. Even the bazaar was fun--we played some bingo and ate lots of chocolate chip cookie bars.

And, I didn't even get yelled at by old ladies wanting decaf. A win-win.

(It's so good to be home, though.)

I Know a Place.

I'll take you there. But, you'll never want to leave.

Going to good ol' NoDak for the weekend.

I am making a surprise trip because every member of my family I have talked to in the past few weeks has guilt-tripped me so, so well. And, it's our church's bazaar, and I am sure I will have to serve coffee to cranky old ladies like I did every year of my teen years.

Hey! Hey you! This pot is cold. Is this decaf? Bring me decaf.

These are the same ladies that called me the "husky one." (If you make fun of me about this, I will effin kill you. I'm a little sensitive.)

So, I am headed North.

Bye Bridgie. Remember: that room is NOT public domain.