A little here and there

I haven't been the best blog poster here lately, other than the occasional movie review or dropping blurbs about the Writing Challenge. So this morning while I sit here and shovel Cheez-its into my face because that's just about all there is left to eat in this house, I will write a random bunch of drivel about what's been going on. I know y'all were enjoying the reprieve from the whining about school, but I promise I won't whine too awful much.

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Last night I had turned on the dryer before I went back to take off my makeup. When I came back up front I could hear this kind of crinkly, crackly sound in the utility room. Of course, I instantly think "FIRE!" because trust me, when you've heard that sound coming from your attic AND your utility room on other occasions, you automatically think that upon hearing a quiet crackly sound. But turns out it was just the trash bag which was up against the dryer and was kind of vibrating against it. So, doing what any half-wit would do, I kicked the trash bag. Not like a full-on soccer kick, but kind of nudge-kicked it with the top of my foot. Well, the corner of a pizza box was in the direct path of my foot and poked me. It really wasn't traumatic and in the dark of the utility room I saw no blood and frankly, it just really didn't hurt that much.

This morning when my feet hit the ground outta bed, I nearly hit the floor. I think I've broken my foot! All around my cute little yellow rose tattoo is this awful looking veiny bruise thing and a scrape down the side of my foot. So much for wearing shoes today. It hurts like an big dog.

If I had been less lazy, I'd have reached over with my hand and moved the trash bag to where it wasn't in contact with the dryer, but noooooo, I had to be all cool and kick the durn thing. And you know where my priorities are because upon feeling the pain eminating from my foot, I had to inspect my tattoo and make sure it was okay. Hey, that sucker cost me $70! I'm not keen on the idea of having it reinked. It was the only tattoo I have that hurt when I got it.

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I had to be a big girl this week and write a History paper about something I totally do not agree with. (No, it wasn't about ending sentences with a preposition. I'm obviously okay with that.) Just like our last paper in this class, we had to choose a chapter from our book, write a no more than two-page summary of the chapter. Then, depending on the chapter we chose, the instructor listed historical documents/speeches/etc. in our other book and we had to summarize and write about how it tied in with the particular chapter we chose.

For the first paper I chose the chapter about the establishing of the railroads and the tensions with the Native Americans. The document I chose for the second part was about Wounded Knee, where hundreds of Sioux indians were slaughtered. I thought I did a pretty good job on the paper, but only made a 78%. Live and learn, I at least knew what he wanted for the next paper.

This go'round I chose the chapter about the Roaring 20's. I enjoyed writing that part of the paper. It was a decade of many changes and it's always intrigued and interested me. But then, when I finished with the first part, I discovered that there was only one document listed for the second part of the paper. The document was the first chapter of Margaret Sanger's book "Woman and the New Race."

Now, if you are a liberated woman that is fine by me. I'm happy for you. More power to ya, sister, and all that. I am not. A liberated woman, that is. I have a personal belief that my husband is the head of our household and he's pretty much the boss. I say "pretty much" because there are times that he just flat refuses to get involved (i.e. when Abby is having an emotional fit and I ask him to step in. He's scared of her and the power of her hormones when she's like that, lol.) and I have to make the decisions. But when it comes to major decisions, etc., while we work together to make the decision, the final say is his. I don't feel I am inferior to him, but I respect him as a man. I take great pride in the fact that I am a mother and a wife. Yes, part of my identity stems from those two things. I have stayed at home for 12 years and don't regret a minute of it. My husband has been the sole breadwinner at many times during our marriage.

That being said, I read Margaret Sanger's words about women being slaves to motherhood and that having children is a burden and that women should break free from man's rule and I got mad. If you feel that way, fine. But don't sit there and try to tell me that I have made an unconscious decision to be inferior because of my sex and the history of my sex. I was borderline angry by the time I got ready to write. Tater told me that the sign of a truly good writer is when the author can write about things they wholeheartedly disagree with and never let the reader know their opinion. Lori told me to write two papers - one for class and then let my real feelings fly in another. I am totally going to take her advice on that one. And that paper will sit in my computer and probably never be seen by anyone else, but I'll feel better.

The paper has been written and submitted to my instructor. I didn't write much over "Woman and the New Race" and felt like I did a fairly good job in staying benign and neutral, but made sure that throughout the paper I said, "Sanger felt" and "Sanger's opinion was..." I'd better get higher than a 78% on this one for the trouble I went through.

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I wrote last week that Paul had been on the job two days when he got a promotion to Assistant Supervisor. Monday, having been on the job still less than a week, he got a raise. I am utterly dumbfounded at this new job. And his attitude and self-esteem have raised, too. He is not only more confident in general, but his demeanor towards life, the kids and me is different.

The other day he told me he loved me when he was hanging up the phone. That never happens. Don't get me wrong, he tells me he loves me, but usually when he's on the phone he just wants to get off the phone and emotional goodbyes aren't part of his agenda. I've gotten accustomed to this and when I said good-bye to him he paused and said, "I sure love you." I asked him to repeat himself, thinking maybe we had a bad connection. He repeated it and I hung up with a huge grin on my face.

And he has a desk. A desk! He's never had a desk in his life. I offered to get him a picture frame with the kids' pictures in it, but he said that since he has to share the desk with the other supervisor, he'd wait and see if the other guy put out pictures first. So while it's not all his desk, still he has a desk!!!!

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I am a mere week away from being able to call WildBlue and getting the appointment to set up satellite internet here at Diva Ranch. It's expensive, but I can't help but think it will be entirely worth it. I am so sick and tired of trying to do homework and research when my internet runs in at 26.4k. My neighbor's hasn't run in over 14k in a week. It's pathetic. So I'm dropping $300 on the equipment and the install is free. I am so excited!

I'm shopping for a laptop, too. I thought I had one picked out, but I don't think it has the software I want. It has Vista Premium, but I don't think it has much more than that. I don't want to have to install all of that separately, so I'm looking around some more.

A laptop.... broadband..... my gosh, it'll be like living in the 21st century.

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LOST last night had Tater and I literally on the edges of our seats. I had my hand over my mouth in those last few minutes and Tater's mouth was just hanging open. I never saw it coming. Paul seems to think they'll dig their way out, but I think their lungs are already full of sand and well, sand is heavy when there's a whole grave's worth of it on top of you. I'm just glad they didn't show hoardes and hoardes of the male spiders coming at them....I was worried enough about nightmares as it was. Seeing many more would've done me in.

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I have a new friend! You know, my track record with keeping the old ones lately hasn't been so good (My theory is that my friends from high school and I reached a cap on Years Friended and well, our time was up. It's a comfort to me, even if it's ridiculous.) so I have to go out and find new ones. Actually, she found me. And I am so thankful.

Lori and I have struck up a long-distance email friendship that truthfully has been such a blessing to me already I can't begin to convey how much I'm enjoying it. We both have an avid interest in All My Children that, while comically sad, is great for me because I've never had a friend who watched the same soap as me. We share the same basic values on childrearing, out-of-season clothes and husbands. We have emailed back and forth so much that I am actually nearing 3% of my max space in my Gmail account. I was at 1% last week. I could just go on and on about her but that comes close to that freaky internet stalker line that I don't want to cross and make her, too, fly the coop and join the ranks of all my other non-friends.

So anyway, go check out her blog and tell her I sent you, k?

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Tomorrow I'm going to do a little filling-in in Tater's office while they break ground on the new courthouse. I'm kind of excited. I haven't answered a phone professionally since I was pregnant with Kady and working temp in the college library. Here at home, you're lucky if I answer at all. So to sit behind a desk with a counter and greet people and answer a phone in an office that I'm honestly not entirely sure what they even do, should be fun. I just hope I can wear shoes by tomorrow. I don't think they'd look too kindly on their go-to girl coming in barefoot.

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The Weather Channel says there are supposed to be some wicked storms hitting here this afternoon and evening. All I have to say about that is: IT'S ABOUT TIME. It's nearly April and we haven't had one tornado warning in our county which would make us feel it necessary to run for the 'fraidy hole. Dadgummit, the Taters have a 'fraidy hole and we don't even get the opportunity to run into it!

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The Writing Challenge Super Tiger Dragon Edition is open at Write in the Thick of It. We had six entries last time and we need more this time! Come on...you know you wanna...all the nerdy cool kids are doin' it.