you look pretty for a Wednesday

.....these were the words I heard from a friend at my book club this last week.

Translation: I'm surprised you look okay, because by Wednesday most moms have given in to the hurricane that is her life as a mother to her children, in which her appearance deteriorates steadily and noticeably throughout the week. So, by Wednesday things don't look so good.

So, here's the secret, gals, I hadn't even showered that day. The Deterioration Theory was in full force, I just threw it a little humdinger: It's called the straightener, which I used to curl my hair. It's that simple.

No need to do this: (because by Wednesday things are a little sketchy and you might not see the inside of a shower until Friday when it's time to go out on a date).

Just use a straightener on that unwashed Wednesday head of hair, put on some makeup if you can and a decent outfit, and you'll look like this. {Ahem.}

It's all you need to do to get told you look pretty on a Wednesday, and that's saying something.

we'll be together again

I may be the only one raising my hand to admit it. So, here goes: I still like listening to Erasure.

And so, I'll continue with further embarassing Erasure-related facts as they pertain to my life:

• There are more Erasure songs on my exercise playlist than from any other band.


• I like the fact that they are gay (well, Andy the singer is)- don't know why - maybe because it's really just about the music, and seriously, take a look at them. Whoa. Yep, it's just about the music.


• When I was putting together a new playlist a couple months back and thought of them, highschool flooded back and hit me full force in the head, for better or worse


• Memories of lots of leotards, lots of tutus, and lots of men at the Civic Auditorium in SF


• Tears came to my eyes when I first listened to them (since high school) on my playlist during a run {crap, I can't believe I just wrote that} - is this a bit like my dad's listening to Anne Murray when I was younger for the whole drive to and from Tahoe? (Neil Diamond was included - I still kinda like him - I think I have no choice since these drives essentially programmed our wee little childhood brains)


• I promise I have a taste for current music, but man, there's just something about Erasure - I must enjoy hearing music about debauchery and "shoving bitches up against the wall" - perhaps a reaction to my current state of residence and craving just the teeniest slice of Babylon


• It makes me run faster - I'm also known to bob my head and giggle out loud while running (sometimes to other music, too) - I haven't twisted my ankle yet or fallen off the sidewalk or in front of any moving vehicles


• I don't really listen to them other than when exercising - I'm too afraid to take away the magic for when I need it most

Who will take their place on the horrible day when I hear them on the radio and associate them with a nasty five-mile run? Any suggestions? I am in need.

Requirement: Band must evoke high state of euphoria so that I can block out all exercise pain.

from dust to dust

Is it possible to be made of dust, yet still be living? There is dust everywhere and this is only the demoltion stage. Regardless, I am happy to anounce that our basement is undergoing a facelift. I don't even dare show you pics of the untouched before since it was not pretty. Think gold flowered wall paper, wood particle board paneling, mirrored wall tiles, and light fixtures that could double for medieval headpieces (plus, they were hung too low - those medieval people were short weren't they? - so you'd crack your head if you chose to walk with good posture).

What is it about taking a sledge hammer to a wall that is so deeply satisfying? My father-in-law, who was helping us (thank you, Mont) commented that he'd never done this before. If you haven't had the opportunity, by all means, search out a friend with a scary medieval house and offer your helping hand. It may take care of a few months of therapy since you can literally feel the repressed anger and aggression (ahem, not that any of us have this brewing or anything) and let it shoot right out of the end of that heavy-as-hell hammer. I even karate-chopped a few sad pieces of drywall. We only made one trip to the ER - Spencer, following his mama's fine example went ahead and karate-chopped some drywall of his own and caught Ava square the face, namely the eyeball. She grabbed at her eye and I pried her hands away to find a HUGE hunk of white plaster tucked nastily underneath her eyelids right on the front of her eyeball. This is when I wished I could go-go-gadget some sort of drywall magnet that would whiz it magically off her little eyeball! Of course, a two-year-old just wants to rub it out. Bad idea. After unsuccessfully trying to flush it out, I drove a drenched Ava to Primary Children's where she got to have a full IV bag of fluid flushed through her eyesocket (a suction cup thing with a water hose connected to it is put INSIDE her eye, under both eyelids so she just had that hose sticking out and the fluid dribbling down the side of her face - freakish and horrible). Please, don't any of you ever have to go through this with one of your kids. It takes agonizingly long to get through a whole IV bag, while she, with the nurse practically sitting on her and me whispering hopefully-comforting words in her ear, kicked and screamed. Now she has to have twice-daily doses of vaseline-like ointment in her eye to heal the abrasion. She walks around looking like she's doing an impersonation of a pirate, with one eye clenched shut, the good eye open, and her head cocked a little to one side. Ahoy.

thankfully, the patch was only for the first night

Since one brush with disaster wasn't enough, I have enlisted the help of my child laborers and have done my part to protect their little baby lungs from dusty tile debris.

Hopefully in a few weeks I'll have some good after pictures - and newly cleaned upstairs carpet which I hope will have the decency to recover from the dust shower that we'll be living in for the next bit. Can you get lung cancer from remodeling?