January 19th, 2004

buddha virgin

Crappy, Crappy Weekend

My older kid turned 12 on Saturday. The day started out just fine - we went to a winery open house and bought a case of the very most delicious wine I've ever had, and then I picked up Peaches' best friend to take them both to the mall shopping for her birthday.

And I guess it was venturing into the mall that did it. The next time I think that going to the mall is a good idea, I think I'm just going to jab red-hot knitting needles into my eyes. I love hiking. I can hike outdoors for days at a time. I never get tired, I love the exercise and it's just all-around fun. But four hours at the mall felt like purgatory. I have never been so happy to spend money in my entire life, as once we had spent all the birthday money we could leave.

But from the second we left the mall, Peaches was fully into her pre-teen angst thang. She bitched about the new clothes she had bought (All the kids are going to say that I'm trying to dress popular!), she bitched because I made her stop eating candy at the mall, she bitched because I pointed out that she got sick at dinner because she had eaten so much candy at the mall, she bitched because at 10:30 I made her to go bed...you get the idea.

At this point, my idea of heaven would be an hour at home where I don't have to counsel, direct, mommy or yell at anyone.
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nekobasu

I'm Serious

It's International Leprosy Week.

You think it's just a sick joke, but it's not. It's prevalent in Brazil, India and parts of Africa and is one of the many diseases that is both preventable and curable but still exists because of lack of resources in poor areas.

http://www.lepra.org.uk/leprosy.shtml

Just so you know.
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buddha virgin

War and Peace Workout!

Welcome to Tolstoy on the Treadmill!

Lizette Margaretovna trudged uphill on the treadmill aware of a discomfort, a dull ache in the part of her on which she had until recently been accustomed to sitting down.

"My butt hurts," Lizette said to Prince Piratoff.

She could feel more and more acutely a shooting pain, a keen sensation everywhere on her lovely body between her hips and the tops of her thighs.

She seemed singularly unaware that this pronouncement might jeopardize her union with Prince Piratoff who loved her deeply, but whose father, Count Rubleski, wanted him to marry the less attractive but nonetheless charming Princess Getova Meovna. The match would have been much more to Count Rubleski's advantage, as Getova's father owned half of St. Scarfersberg but whose fortunes had taken a turn for the worse when his serfs all appended "er" to their title and moved en masse to America.

...Next time - Sartre on the StairMaster!
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