He's Got the Fever!

Another random conversation between my old-soul six-year-old son and his friend.

FRIEND: Why haven't you cut Noah's hair? It's getting really long.

ME: Because I kind of like it long and want to let it grow out.

NOAH: I hate it! Cut it!

FRIEND: There is a boy in my class that had a mowhawk and then he let it all grow out and it got long like Noah's, but now it is all poofy. You know, like a rock star.

NOAH: Like Disco?

FRIEND: Exactly.

NOAH: Groooooovy , man! ( complete with an Elvis hip-swivel)

Where does he get this stuff? How does he even know what Disco IS? And who taught him the Elvis moves?

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Go Ahead, Punish Me, PLEASE!

I'm participating in Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop today. One of the prompts is "Who are you giving a timeout to?"

This is funny because just yesterday my husband and I were having this conversation.

ME: (with sound of two-year-old tantrum in background) I wish I could have a timeout.

HUBBY: Maybe we should start doing that. If one of us really needs a break, the other can just send us to our room for a timeout. We can even stomp in there and slam the door. That would be fun.

ME: (dreamily) Yeah.... thirty-seven minutes to myself would be bliss. I'm sure they'd just follow us, though.

HUBBY: You're probably right.

**comfortable silence while we both imagine how wonderful the land of time-out would be**

ME: (crashing back to reality) No! We can't do that. It would be bad.

HUBBY: Why!!??

ME: Because I can already see myself just walking up to a kid and smacking them just so you will put me in timeout.

HUBBY: *snicker* Yeah, I can see that. Perhaps it isn't such a good idea, afterall

Cojones...

... as in, I need to get some.

**Warning: lengthy rant **

I have a hard time with the line dividing being nice and helpful and being taken advantage of.

First, last year, a neighborhood little girl Noah's age started coming over to play. I was excited he was finally getting friends and happily let her play whenever she showed up at my door. I knew which house she lived in, but had ( and still to this day) never met her parents. I kept waiting for them to personally come pick her up- after all, there is NO WAY I would let Noah go play at someone's house without meeting the parents first. They never came. When it was time for her to go home, they sent her older sister to pick her up.

The occasional playdates grew to every day visits to my house. She was a nice enough little girl at first, but the reason I like my son to have friends over is because they distract each other and stay out of my hair for awhile. At least that is how it works with the little boy across the street. I have met his parents and we frequently talk. When he comes to my house, other than expected occasional spats, the two boys and Zoe get along nicely and it is a break for me. I think it is the same when Noah is at their house. At least I have never heard otherwise. Also, it's pretty even split as to how much time they spend at each others' houses.

But this little girl would come over and every five minute she was coming in my house to use the bathroom/get a drink of water/ask for a snack/ask what time it is. It created MORE work for me and it was really annoying! One day she showed up around five o'clock, asked me what time it was and then told me she needed to be home at nine. Um...... no.... you are NOT staying four hours at my house so I can answer questions every five minutes and feed you. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind feeding a child at my house, but I think it should go both ways. This child is eating my food, and basically being cared for by me- while her parents have all this free time and I am not getting the same deal. Not that I would have let Noah go over to her house, her parents had already proved what kind of parents they were by letting her roam the neighborhood by herself (at six years old), play at and go inside of a house that belonged to people they had never met and not even checking up on her.

I put a stop to the visits. It made too much work for me. She still asks on occasion if she can play and she has this really obnoxious habit of standing at our fence and staring at us in the backyard while Noah plays and we sit on the patio. I can't make her leave, because she is outside the fence, on public property. (We live on a corner lot, so a road runs along the side of our backyard- we cannot put up a privacy fence- so we are stuck with a hurricane fence and feeling like we live in a fishbowl in these situations) So, my question is, why did her parents feel they could pawn her off on us all hours of the day, for hours on end if we were outside. It was almost like we were prisoner in our home, because as soon as we walked outside, she was in the backyard.

Situation number two:

My previous blog was about "Person" who sits in my driveway waiting for the schoolbus and invited us over last weekend for smores and then pretty much ignored us when we were there.

What I didn't tell you in that post, is that I also get stuck watching her daughter before and after school sometimes. It started when one day, the bus came and Person was not there to pick up her daughter. Person and her husband are both military- she is National Guard and he is reserves, but they both work full time. It was the first time and I thought that something must have happened, so I took responsibility for Child at the bus stop because the bus driver cannot let a child that young off the bus without an adult present. There was no way I was going to let her walk home as it is several blocks and she would have to cross a very busy major street to get to her street. She played at my house and about twenty minutes later her mother showed up and apologized profusely and got my number so she could program it in her cell to let me know if something like this happened again. Well, this happened several more times, that Child got off the bus and Person wasn't here and Person didn't call me. Every time she showed up, she apologized and said she hadn't put my number in her phone yet.

Did I mention that Child is very badly-behaved? She doesn't listen to her parents at all and she doesn't listen to me either. Again, it is a situation where I feel like I have to do more work when she is here, because I am having to referee at all times.

One day, Child's father showed up at my door at 8:20 am ( the bus comes at 8:45) and asked if he could just drop her off. I said sure ( sucker, I know) and I had to monitor her while trying to finish getting Noah ready for school. It was stressful. This has become fairly regular now, when Father is home to get her ready for school. He drives by the front of my house, lets her out and sits in the truck while she comes to my door and waves at me and drives away. This morning, she didn't knock, she just walked right in. Also this morning? She yanked several toys from Zoe making her cry and then tried to tell me she was trying to GIVE them to Zoe and then shot Zoe in the face with a Nerf gun.

Am I being unreasonable? I know that this family is going through some things right now and could probably use a little help, but I am not sure if I am help or a doormat. I think what bothers me most is that I feel that I wouldn't get the same support from them. My husband is working nightshift right now- 12 hour shifts- and is exhausted. Add his exhaustion to the effects of his nightly absences and day-time sleep and it is a bit stressful around here too. But, it's all about THEM... nothing about me. I am always so happy and helpful and cheerful. What on earth could be wrong in my world?

One morning, after Child was dropped off, she played for twenty minutes and as we were walking out the door for the bus stop at 8:42 ( bus arrives at 8:45) she said to me, " Ms. Jennifer? I'm really hungry. I didn't eat breakfast." And instantly I was annoyed. I mean, no child should be hungry and I would have fed her, but now I didn't even have time to throw her a poptart. The bus was coming. I was comforted by the fact that they will feed them breakfast when they get to school if they tell them they are hungry. So, I told her to ask for breakfast when she gets off the bus. And then I started thinking... and got angrier and angrier. Was her father so selfish and wrapped up in his personal drama that he didn't even think of feeding his child? OR... was he running late and just assumed I would feed her for him? Either way, it pisses me off! Person has two more stripes than my husband and Husband of Person has one more stripe than my husband. This means they make more money... and there are two of them... so they make MORE THAN TWICE WHAT WE MAKE. Let that sink in a minute. They have more than two times the income we do and just expect that I will feed their child for them because they can't be bothered to get up early enough to do that. We are not struggling. I am not trying to say I can't afford to feed extra children. We are okay, but they are more than two times better... money is not their issue. Or, if it is, I don't know what the've spent it on.

Finally, I want to outline the kind of discipline problem the child is and the dynamic between Child and her mother. One afternoon, when Person actually asked me in advance if she could get off the bus here and play for an hour, we were all outside in the backyard. Child was driving my son's Power Wheels Gator around and ran full-speed head-on into the privacy fence that lines the back of our property. That fence does not belong to us, it belongs to our neighbor. Regardless, you just don't do things like that. I scolded her for running into the fence and told her it was not our fence and she was going to break the Gator or the fence. I guess I should have specifically told her not to run into ANYTHING else, because I said," Don't run into the fence again!". So, she backed it up, turned it and then headed, full-speed head on into a giant oak tree, cracking the bumper of the Gator. My husband lost it and yelled at her. He made her get out of the car and said only Noah could drive. Just a few minutes later, her mother showed up and while we were talking, Child came around the corner driving the Gator again and then ran into the playset. I said, " Now, [Child], we already told you to stop running into things. You've already broken the bumper and you are not supposed to be driving anymore." -in front of her mom. She didn't get out of the driver's seat. Her mom said, " You heard what Ms. Jennifer said, now get out." And she didn't and Person kept talking to me about whatever she was talking about oblivious to her daughter. Child then ran into the tree and I told her to get out again. Person warned her that they were going home soon and she just proceeded to argue. They argued for a good five minutes while Child kept begging to just make the round in the Gator one more time ( by this time Noah was driving her). And she made the round at least four more times before her mother made her get out and go home.

I realize the common denominator in these situations is me. Something about me just screams to take advantage of me. I don't know what it is. I recognize that this must all be my fault and I need to change something about myself to change the behavior, but I don't know how to "grow a pair". I don't know how to just be assertive without being rude. I feel when I do stand up for myself and say "No" and won't let myself be swayed, I have gone to the other extreme and am just being unreasonable. I don't want to be rude and have no friends at all.

It is apparent to me, though, after this past weekend and the smores incident, that they are not looking for friends, they are only looking for childcare. For Pete's sake, the woman didn't even know my NAME! Come ON!

If you've made it this far- bless your heart- and I apologize. It's a rather lengthy rant that I just needed to get out of my head.

Culture is for Yogurt

I learned rather quickly upon arriving in New Jersey, that social invitations are sometimes just a nicety and not meant to be taken seriously. For example, if you were to run into someone you haven't seen in awhile and they were to say to you, " It's great to see you. We should do lunch sometime.", they don't really mean it. They do not seriously intend to go to lunch with you, it is just a gesture.

After ten years, I really thought I had the social protocol nailed down. I thought I was an expert. Tonight proved that I know as little as I did when I first moved here a decade ago.

There is a mom that sometimes comes to our bus stop. When she is there, she always goes on and on about how she works so much and rarely has time for a social life. She is always saying she needs to get some girlfriends and on many occasions throughout the course of this school year, has suggested playdates, lunches and movie nights to myself and my other friend who is also sometimes at the stop with us. So far, there have always been conflicts. Today, though, for the umpteenth time, when the kids got on the bus, she started her rhetoric about hanging out and letting the kids play and suggested that we come over this evening after dinner and roast smores. I thought this sounded like a great idea- a nice distraction for the kids since their father is working nights and they are really starting to miss his presence. I ended the conversation by telling her as she drove away in her minivan that I didn't see a problem with it and I would call her later in the day to confirm. She seemed very happy and cheerily drove away.

The other friend and I talked about it and decided that all our kids would love the playdate and departure from normal routine and decided to confirm. I called the woman on my cell to tell her we would definitely be coming and to ask what time she wanted us at her house. I kid you not, this is how the conversation went:

**phone ringing**

"Hello?"

"Hi, [Person], this is Jennifer[Last Name]."

"Who is Jennifer [Last Name]??"

Seriously? This woman has known me since our kids started preschool three years ago. She has sat in my driveway waiting on the bus countless times in the last year and during the frigid days of winter, I even invited her into my house to wait in the warmth for the bus. And she doesn't know my name. WHAT?

Rest of the conversation:

"Ummm, errrr, you know, Noah's mom?"

" Oh YEAH, right. What's up?"

"Well, [Friend] and I were talking and we would love to come over for smores tonight if the invitation is still open."

" Sure! That'll be great, come on over. Say, around seven o'clock?"

"Great! See you then!"

We showed up tonight, at seven sharp. She seemed excited about the visit and the kids happily went off to play, but she got us drinks, set us up outside on the deck and left. She was running around, talking on her cell phone and I got the impression we were like those mooching family members that show up and never leave. Her husband finally came home and expressed total surprise that we were there and then they started talking about needing showers. So, they took turns going inside to take showers while we sat outside with chips and dip. Then,[{Husband of Person] disappeared to work in the yard somewhere and then some neighbors showed up and they all stood at the fence completely away from where we were on the deck and chatted for awhile. Then, [Person] came back to the deck, chatted for a minute and promptly picked up her cell and called someone else and started chatting loudly. It was weird.

By the end of the evening, [Husband of Person] was pulling the kids around in a little trailer behind the tractor and we were enjoying a break from kids, so the kids had a blast, but I am still not sure I read that situation correctly. During one of the many times we were left alone, I asked [Friend] if she got the same impression and she decided that now that I pointed it out, she did find it a little odd. And then we giggled about being daft idiots and unknowingly imposing on someone else.

But, hey, we got free smores out of it.

Totally worth it.

Camping Season- Part Deux

In honor of the great weather we are (finally) having, I would like to bring back a previous post to remind us all what happens when I go camping.

This was originally posted July 11, 2009 from a pop-up camper in southern New Jersey. Our camper doesn't have a bathroom, but it had Wi-Fi. Priorities.

Transcendental Meditation from a Pop-Up

I grew up in a fairly rural area. I didn't think it was rural at the time, but knowing what I know now, it was. We went camping, fishing and yes, I swam in lakes and creeks. I had no problem with that. The old adage, " You can take the girl out of the country but you can't take the country out of the girl." apparently does NOT ring true, though. By my best estimation, it takes around ten years to weasel the aforementioned, "country" out of the girl.


Despite my childhood experiences with the great outdoors, I am now aware that I have become a bit of a city girl. We currently live in a lake community with a public beach on the lake and lifeguards in the summer. Three years ago we went swimming in the lake and emerged covered in some sort of brown slime that stained our suits and proved hard to wash off our skin. The locals told us it was called " cedar water". Whatever it is, it produces stain-inducing slime. I now prefer to only swim in that which is chlorinated.


Back to the present. It is currently five a.m. I've been up since three a.m. We are camping at the NJ shore in a pop-up camper with no heat, no air and no bathroom. Here are my musings thus far:


Two-thirty a.m.: Yes, I KNOW you cannot get frost bite when it is fifty-five degrees outside, but my feet are so cold they're numb, so humor me.


Three a.m : What was THAT!?? Are there coyotes in southern NJ?


Three-thirty a.m.: I'm going to go and choke a chicken. No, that is not a metaphor.. there is a rooster somewhere that has his days and nights confused.


Four a.m.: I decided to just grab the laptop and start recording my musings since I am clearly not sleeping any more tonight. I am seriously so cold, that I am huddled in an intricately-designed cocoon that I have created with my blanket.


** "cocoon"- hmmm.... how ironic I am identifying with my caterpillar friends with whom I have such a tumultuous relationship.


** If you subscribe to the thought that there are no accidents or coincidences, that everything is meant to happen and is some sort of pre-designed Divine plan, then is this the Great Creator's way of having me make peace with the nasty caterpillars? Because I don't know if I can let that go.


** I have to pee. The bathroom is four streets over. I know the walk is good for me, but I prefer to stumble to the bathroom in the middle of the night half-asleep. If I walk that far, I'm going to be good and awake. Isn't that what exercise is FOR? To give you energy and get your blood flowing?


** I decided to take the "city girl" route and drive to the bathroom. Besides, I got to turn the van's heater on on the way over there. It was heavenly. See?? I'm being made to appreciate the simple things. One more night and I can be a Buddhist monk.


**Look at me... I've turned into a flippin' philosopher! Jennaclese ( el vato with the knobby knees) Sorry, I was channeling Cheech Marin for a minute.


** Me thinks Emerson and Thoreau were NOT really one with nature. They simply lost their minds camping and wrote about it and we recognize that today as a literary movement worth studying.


**Totally random.. but really, what is WITH New Jersey jug handles? Why can't you just make a left turn?


** Why does the slightest drop of moisture cause my hair to explode? I CAME from a very humid environment... my ancestors lived in the swamps of Louisiana. I wonder what they used for hair product back in the day?


** Speaking of ancestors... I realize I am spoiled, but I feel I should point out that at least the pioneers that travelled forth in the name of Manifest Destiny and slept out on the open plains had camp fires to keep them warm! Granted, they had to fear attack by wild animals and Indians, but hey, let's not trivialize the mosquitos and rabid rooster I'm dealing with.


** We turned the stove on and the fans to circulate the heat from the stove. It's working a little bit. I can't say I'm WARM... but I am warm-ER. And I see light, so the sun should be up soon to warm up good ole Mother Earth!


** At least both my kids have managed to sleep through this. I could be dealing with chills, rabid roosters and two crying children. For that I am thankful.

Simon Says, "What the WHAT?"

Before bed tonight, Noah asked to play a game. I looked at the clock and it was 7:55 and their bedtime is 8 on school nights, so I decided a quick game of Simon Says would have to do. We went through the usual..." Simon says, 'jump up and down' ; Simon says, 'Stop'; Simon says, 'hop like a frog'..."

And at 8:01, just for grins and giggles, I threw in, "Simon says, 'Go brush your teeth' ". And, still-giggling, they happily did as they were told.

Dumb-founded, I said, " Simon says, 'Go to bed' ". They did that too.

I'm going to enjoy this because I am pretty sure it is a one-shot deal.

Simon says, "Relax, Jennifer, the kids are in bed."

You don't have to tell me twice.

Even if Simon didn't say.

Technicality...

Conversation at the bus stop this morning:

NOAH: What time is it, Mommy?"
ME: 8:42
NOAH: Darn, I wish it was 11:42
ME: Why?
NOAH: Because that is lunchtime and today is pizza day.
ME: Wait, lunch time is at eleven forty-TWO? Not just eleven forty?
NOAH: Yes, it's 11:42.
ME: That's an odd time.
**eye roll**
NOAH: NO! It's EVEN... because it ends in a TWO! Duh!
ME: Touché, Noah, touché.
NOAH: TOOTHPASTE?!! **pause** WHAT!?? **hysterical giggles**


See what I am talking about? He has his moments where I forget he is six and I feel like I am talking to a much older child/person and then he brings me screaming back into the reality that he is just a six-year-old little boy.

Shameless Begging

AAFES is the organization that runs the Army/Air Force PX/BX. That's the place we shop on base/post. They have a Facebook page and have announced a photo contest for the cutest kid. I uploaded Zoe's picture today and now I need votes. If you have a Facebook account, please follow my link and become a fan of the BX/PX by clicking that you like it. And then, click "like" under my photo of Zoe. That is considered your vote and you can only vote once. The picture with the most "likes" by July 5 will win.

Zoe's photo entry

Here is the photo I entered:





Why are you still here? Go forth. Vote. Share with your Facebook friends and tell them to vote as well.

Mother's Day Cards and Gifts

Warning: this post is picture-heavy.

A few weeks ago, I posted a couple of pictures from a recent photo shoot. Well, I didn't post the best ones because I had them printed in various portrait sizes and sent them along with handmade cards to the family for Mother's Day.

First, here are the cards I made for my stepmom, my mom, my grandmother, my sister and my sister-in-law:

Now, here are the photos that made the cut and were printed and sent as gifts:

Random Riches

On this Mother's Day, this is going to be a sort of random blog- with little snippets of things I wanted to share that are totally unrelated to each other. But, really, all the randomness ties together in the fact that each little snippet is a gem that comes together in the richness that is my life.

First, a Noah-ism.

One day last week, Noah got off the bus and in the biggest drawl I've ever heard, said, " I want some aaayyyyyeeess crayme" (ice cream). Now, let me first say this- most people don't know that I am southern when they first meet me. Upon conversing with me for a bit, inevitably a "y'all" or a bit of a drawl slips out, but I've been gone from Texas for almost twelve years. Ten of which have been living in New Jersey. The drawl is almost gone. Almost. So, how then, can my six-year-old pick up a drawl? I decided to ask.

"Son, you sound like you are from Texas or something. What's that all about?"

The response?

" Weeeellll..." (insert eye roll here) "... I WAS born from the stomach of someone from Texas. So, what do you expect?"

Oh, right. That explains it. "Texan" is like a virus.. it seeps to your insides and sticks there... forever. And comes out at random times... in your offspring.

Mystery solved.

On Friday, Noah came home from school with a cute little Mother's Day card and a Dixie cup with a flower and a spider plant in it. The card had an adorable little poem that they all copied from the board.

Now, here is where the gem comes in. My son loved this gift, but he felt he should make me a card with a little poem in his own words. Later Friday evening, he presented me with a handmade card, made entirely on his own with no prompting from anyone. He had carefully colored it with pictures of all the things I like and then penned on the inside:

"Happy Mother's Day. I love you as fast as a dog and as much as a cat, you will be my Mommy."

I'm tearing up just writing it. That is the sweetest thing I think he could have done. It makes no sense, but I know exactly what he was getting at. Since the beginning of time, poets have been trying to put into words the feeling of love. It can't be done. All of the best metaphors in the world still cannot accurately describe love. And my son was trying his best, with use of metaphor, to describe how much he loves his mom. And that moves me to tears. What a beautiful sentiment. And, I'm silently awed by my child and excited that he might love to write like his mother.

And finally, I bring you to the wealth of laughter I have in my house. My daughter is hilarious. She's like the court jester around here, always trying to get a laugh. So, here are a few of her "gems" from this week:

We were watching a television show that involved teenagers and there was a typical teenage love drama going on. I looked at DJ and said, " Ahh... teenagers and drama." Zoe was sitting between us and interjected, " TEENAGERS? GO AWAY TEENAGERS!" And we laughed. And then she said, " I'm scared teenagers." At which point I told her I would remind her of this conversation in ten years.

Yesterday was a beautiful day. It was eighty-three degrees outside and I was helping Zoe get dressed. I had her clothes on and was preoccupied with her brother for a minute when she showed up wearing this:

I gently informed her that the last I checked, it was not snowing outside. She was pretty upset that I vetoed her outfit but then she finally gave up and skipped off to the other room, only to return in this:

Much more appropriate. Pick your battles. I already went to bat over the snow boots, I didn't feel like fighting over this one. So, this is how she left the house.

And lastly, did you ever realized that sometimes having kids is like having cats? I have a running list of the similarities, but this little gem was a new addition:

In case you can't make out what you are looking at, this is a two-year-old rump sticking out of a container that she usually keeps her toys in. She had folded herself in half and was playing around in it like a cat.

I hope your Mother's Day is filled with as many riches as mine.

Happy Mother's Day!

Teacher Appreciation

Tomorrow is the Teacher Appreciation Luncheon at Noah's school. I just finished making my edible contribution about an hour ago and then went on to tackle my personal gift for Noah's teacher. True to form, I waited until the last minute. I mean, really, I don't work well, unless under pressure.

I found three of these cute little lunchboxes on clearance at Michael's this past summer and knew I would eventually find a use for one or all of them. Noah's teacher gives stickers for completed homework, so I bought a bunch of sticker packs in various themes and a gift card to Barnes and Noble and packed them in the lunchbox. I think it turned out pretty cute.

FRONT:

BACK:

I also want to take a moment to thank all of the teachers. Once our kids start school, they spend more time with them than we do and have a great deal of influence on our children. They not only teach them academics, but manners, morales, how to be a good friend and neighbor, how to be impartial and spark that belief in them that anything is truly possible.

I am amazed every day at what all Noah has learned. Just today, he came home with math homework that included finding the range of a set of numbers. He knew how to do it without me telling him. He's in the first grade. I think I might have learned range somewhere around fourth or fifth grade. Wow.

So, thank you to Ms. Marcie and Ms. Florina (PK3), Mrs. King and Mrs. Brown ( PK4), Mrs. Salkowski and Ms. Kim (K) and finally to Miss Gray his first grade teacher this year. You all have molded my son into the sweet, sensitive, funny, smart, full-of-wit-and-wisdom little man that he is today.

Technology- Good or Evil?

Warning: I'm writing this in the middle of a temper tantrum. Unfortunately, it is NOT my two-year-old, but myself of which I speak.

For the most part, I am amazed with how far technology has come in my lifetime. I enjoy and take for granted conveniences that were not available to me ten or even five years ago. As a military spouse, when my husband is gone, we can video chat via Skype, email, use cell phones and pretty much communicate instantly. Gone are the days- even when when we were first married almost twelve years ago- where he had to stand in a long line of soldiers for use of the phone and was only allotted ten or fifteen minutes. The days where I waited for the elusive phone call and was afraid of missing it and not knowing when the next one would come. I received hand-written letters telling me he is okay, missing me and requesting items in his next care package. So, yes, technology is good.

But today, technology is bad. (Even though, I am aware of the irony in the fact that I am currently using technology to vent about said technology) When I was first introduced to the concept of taking online courses or even entire online degrees, I thought it was brilliant. You can work on your classes from home, in your own time and around all other commitments and responsibilities. Now, I am convinced it was easier the old way.

You see, when I was in college in the early to mid 1990's and I had to write a paper, I went to the university library. I sat in silence and researched my topic, took notes and wrote my paper. There were not people constantly parading around me requesting food, telling me they scraped their knee, tattling on their mischievous sister, needing help with their shoelaces and otherwise just being needy. My friends were advanced and cool in that they could take care of their own needs and shoelaces. Hmmm.. one can never appreciate their friends enough.

You know what else I didn't have? Internet browser freezes. The equivalent of this, I guess, would have been that all the books spread out before me on the table just suddenly snapped shut and flew off to random corners and floors of the library leaving me with no clue as to where I found that one awesome article on my particular subject of research. Because, you know what? That just happened to me. I had like a gazillion windows opened with various points and information about my topic of research and suddenly, the whole browser decided to freeze. And I could not recover it nor could I even perform a "Force Quit". It was that frozen. So, I was forced to sit and stare ( and let's face it, SEETHE) while it did nothing for what seemed like forever and then finally decided it had no option but to just shut itself down.

So, here I sit, with a half-written paper. No idea exactly which site was the golden site with all the information, no reference information to cite what is already written and no patience to search for it all again at the moment. So, I'm doing what I do best.

I'm using technology to cyber-procrastinate. (Read: Complain and moan to you all)

Now, I'm signing off, slamming my laptop shut, grabbing my abacus and microfiche and I'm going home.

Or maybe to someone else's home.

So, if you hear a knock at your door...