Thank you

This has been a most wonderful, exquisite birthday.

So many people I love and respect sent good wishes and hugs my way, I am surrounded by warm fuzzies.

It is fitting that the last day of the month, and therefore, the last day of NaBloPoMo, is my birthday.

It allows me to celebrate myself and my accomplishments, but also to fill my heart and my blog with gratitude for all of the generous people who gave of their time, and of themselves, to help me celebrate, today and every day.

So this post goes to you- my friend, my family member, my follower, my reader. Thank you for listening and for letting me know I am heard. <3

35 Favorite Things

Tomorrow is my 35th birthday. I never imagined what 35 would feel like, or look like, but if 34 and 364 days is any indication, 35 is fantastic!

So, in honor of my 35 years, I decided to post a list of some of my favorite things. Nary a rain drop or a whisker among them.

(in no particular order)
35 of Jenny's Favorite Things

1. The movie "Better Off Dead"

2. The smell of someone's neck, whether that neck is new to me or dear to me

3. Homemade lemonade

4. They Might Be Giants' Flood album

5. Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" (the original version, not the crappy incomplete version I hear on the radio sometimes)

6. Breyer's chocolate ice cream

7. The Volkswagen Karmann Ghia

8. The rush of emotion I get when a plane takes off (or, to a greater extent, when a Space Shuttle takes off)

9. Jane Austen's novels - Pride & Prejudice, Emma, Sense & Sensibility, and Mansfield Park especially

10. The 1995 BBC miniseries Pride & Prejudice starring Colin Firth & Jennifer Ehle

11. Depeche Mode

12. Tulips

13. The scents of vanilla and lemon

14. Lush bath and body products

15. The movie "French Kiss"

16. Hammocks

17. Swimming in the ocean and jumping the waves - it feels like I'm flying

18. Good, fun sex (may or may not include laughter)

19. The Colorado Rocky Mountains

20. Singing songs in harmony with my Dad and sister

21. My mom's cooking (and my Nana's cooking) (and my Yiayia's cooking)

22. Knowing the answer and being right

23. Rain outside, good book inside

24. Turkey, stuffing & cranberries (always whole berry sauce, not canned)

25. Being the oldest of three crazy kids (hi Keri and Ernie!)

26. Playing The Angry Vagina in "The Vagina Monologues" (and saying the word vagina)

27. Singing really loudly in the car, especially Barenaked Ladies, or the Indigo Girls' "Get Out The Map" and "Galileo"

28. Being known as a fun, cheerful, happy person

29. Looking up at the stars and contemplating all of the big questions

30. Traveling - London, Ireland, New York City & Paris are my favs so far

31. My wonderful, dear friends

32. Crafting, scrapbooking- making something & telling my story

33. Being called Mommy or Mama or even Mom

34. Being married to my best friend

35. Going to bed with my down comforter, pleasant thoughts and other infinite possibilities of tomorrow

Here's to 35!!

Camping Conclusions

Pros:
Hunting Island, SC. Gorgeous. Right on beach. Large wooded campsite. Kids around to play with. Cool dead trees on beach for climbing and photos. Large bathrooms with heaters. Nature center and salt marsh walk. Good friends who know how to camp in comfort (tip-electric griddle. Who knew?)

Cons:
Cold. So very, very cold. Freezing. So many layers of clothing. So many pitches of whiny voices complaining about the cold. Did I mention really, really cold? Like, uncontrollable chattering teeth cold? Five blankets and you're still cold?

So here I am, braving the cold by sitting across from a roaring campfire, sighing as I slowly digest tonight's scrumptious dinner.

And then, I am informed by husband that I have fallen asleep mid-word as I'm typing this post. Apparently full tummy + freezing cold = falling asleep in front of fire. I awaken to recommit myself to blog excellence, but I don't know how long I can keep this goi

My New Obsession

I am used to being looked at with a bemused expression. It happens more often than I'd like to admit.

But recently, it's been occurring daily, sometimes several times a day. And I'm being asked to answer some specific questions.

Why does this shuttle mission feel so personal?

Why do NASA and the space program seem so vital to me now?

Why did I ignore my friends for an hour this morning while I sat, glued to my iPhone, following every tweet with a mixture of longing, jealousy, excitement and pride?

Why did I cry (well, sob) when Atlantis finally touched down, my relief and joy mingled with a sense of sadness at the completion of the mission?

The answer to all of these questions is straightforward- all because of the STS-129 NASA Tweetup.

But the explanation is more complicated.

The truth is, I don't quite understand it myself. I'm a reasonably intelligent person. I'm a self-professed Geek. But I'm no rocket scientist.

I can't really explain how a homeschooling mom who loves space and science turned into a Space Tweep. I can't account for the seemingly magical honor of attending the tweetup. I just don't get it- why me?

But I know I'm grateful. I know I'm humbled. I know I'm honored to have met the amazing people I did. I know I'm lucky to have seen the things I did. I know I'm happy to have felt the emotions I felt.

I don't profess to have the knowledge, the expertise or the years of passion of my fellow NASA Tweetup attendees.

But I do have one thing now: a deep, personal and abiding love for our space program. And I also have the excitement and the dedication and the energy to share that love with everyone I know.

So, my friends and family will have to get used to my obsession. They'll have to just accept that this is part of me now. I'm a geeky space fangirl. And I love it.

Thoughts of Thanksgiving 2009

No turkey.
No cranberries (usually my favorite part of the feast).
No pre-Black Friday perusal of ad papers (thank goodness!)
No extended family gatherings, with their inevitable awkward moments.

Instead...
A feast of charred & blackened meat & potatoes.
An emergency back-up feast of hot dogs & oranges.
Sticky smores, smoky with burnt marshmallow edges.
Laughter, wind-blown hair and feet caked with dirt.
And the sound of the sea....

All that I love, all that I am thankful for every day, seems to feel closer to me here, hundreds of miles from home.

With the stars peeking through the trees, I pull my children close for a hug, put my arm around my husband, and laugh with my friends.

I am so grateful for this moment.

Dear Men

You suck!

...Ok, not all of you suck.

Not even most.

But some of you... a few of you... really suck.

Though, to be fair, those of you who suck don't suck all of the time.

Most of the time you are kind, generous, and generally awesome.

But some of the time, a few of you are kind of a little bit sucky.

Jeepers, I can't even maintain a proper rant. This is ridiculous.

Now, men who suck, please stop sucking. Please stop making women (and other men) cry. Please stop making us feel like everything is our fault. Please remember your awesomeness and embrace it, and throw away the suckiness. Do it now. Please. For me, and all of the other incredibly great women and men and people and children and mammals out there.

Thank you.

Camping? Really?

We are going camping for Thanksgiving.

Yes, camping.

No, not the kind where you sleep in an RV.

The kind where you have a tent. With tent poles.

Yes, the sleep-on-the-floor type of camping.

Whoever thought of this idea deserves to go camping in 40 degrees with two small children.

What? Oh.

Well, yes.

Yes, it was all my idea.

Yep, guess it is all my fault.

Guess I deserve what I get.

Hopefully, what I get will be four days of adventure, insect bites, sore muscles and fun! Time to gaze at the stars, examine the leaves, contemplate the beauty of life, and read a book.

Time to visit with friends, and talk for hours. Time to play games, laugh and fool around.

Wish me luck. Yay, camping!

Want to Know Me? (Are you sure?)

Disclaimer: This is an honest, uncensored post about this geeky goddess named Jenny Wadley. If you are my Dad, or uncomfortable hearing about some of the real-life details of my personality and habits, please stop reading (or listening, Dad) and come back another day. Deal?

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Thanks to social media and my darling iPhone, I have made a lot of new friends recently. I thought that some of them might be interested to know a little bit more about me, without the hassle of 140-character limits. So, in no particular order, here is a by-no-means-comprehensive discussion of some facts about me.

• I am honest. But, I wasn't always. As a teenager, I did a lot of lying. I have even stolen things (mostly candy, including one humiliating experience when I was in 5th grade). My honesty was hard-won, and because of that, I tend to be very honest now.
• I can be too honest.
• I like to talk. A lot. I am a verbal person, and I love to talk to people and get to know them, or talk about myself or my life and kids, or ask about someone else's life and kids.
• I like to talk. In bed.
• I like to laugh. I am a fun person, and I love to hear or tell stories that make people laugh. I try to enjoy every single day. I don't always succeed, but I know there is so much fun to be had in life, and I look for that fun every day.
• I like to laugh. In bed. Sex is hot and awesome, and yes, it can be hilarious. I love that!
• I have a wonky appropriateness filter. This would go along with the "too honest" bit. My longtime friends can tell you that I will talk about anything to anyone, at anytime. Especially at family gatherings. At my son's birthday party, I was talking about erotica when I realized that my stepmother was behind me. I just kept on going. My friends told me that the look on her face was priceless. Whoops.
• I am sex-positive. Combine that with a wonky appropriateness filter and too much honesty, and sometimes you get trouble. At one Cooking Club meeting, some fool gave me a shot of Amaretto. I spent the next 30 minutes telling the the guys that its okay for them to be turned on by gay porn, and that they should try a butt plug. Yeah, think I alienated some people.
• I am cheerful. Glass-half-full here! Many days, that glass is all the way full.
• I don't drink too often, but when I do, I can become a little exhibitionist. (Don't everyone send drinks at once.)
• I am open-minded.
• I love music, especially music that has an emotional connection for me with someone or something.
• My first french kiss was while playing spin-the-bottle my freshman year of high school. I was amazed & wanted to do it again right away. My second french kiss wasn't until my junior year. I was in hormone hell for almost two years.
• My husband thought I was a lesbian in high school.
• I love to read. Jane Austen, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, and, lately, a lot of Young Adult stuff. Hmmm... maybe that should tell me something.
• I love learning. I love knowing about things.
• I am more confident than I have ever been.
• I am sexy. This is a relatively new realization, but, damn, I can be really sexy. Like, I turn myself on. And I love being sexy.
• I am just me. This is what you get. I'm very open about the person I am, and the positives and negatives that go along with her.
• I really, truly like myself. And because of that, I think, I really like others. I love people. My friends, my family, my children - I give my love pretty freely, and I see the best in everyone.
• I am happy.

If you made it this far, you know a lot about me now. There's definitely still more to know, though. And not all of it has to do with sex. Otherwise, my Dad wouldn't be able to read any of my posts.

The Lost Day

I had, some, ahem, technical difficulties, yesterday.

Which explains why there was NO BLOG POST!!

Go ahead, let the shock sink in.

Yes, good. I can hear your gasping. Thank you for acknowledging my pain.

But, honestly, I had such a fantastic evening babysitting my sweet godson (whose mother taught him to say I was the best godmother in the whole wide world!) and hanging out with a friend that I didn't even remember my blog post until it was after 3:00 AM.

And you know what? That doesn't make me a bad person. Just a failure. ;-) But only at NaBloPoMo.

So, fine. I'll embrace the failure. This feels just like Mrs. Levine's 11th grade English class. Sigh. Look how far I've come.

(My geeky smarty-pants pride forces me to add here that I only failed her class, and my Algebra II, because I had too many absences. Though refusing to finish The Grapes of Wrath didn't help. That book was really depressing me, people.)

I'm going to keep going with the blogging anyway.

That's what we Little Engines do. I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

Wadley Weekend

Yes, we do have a slightly manic household. Especially on the weekend, time seems to be compressed and I try to fit way too many things into 2.25 days (obviously, Friday night is part of the weekend).

This weekend is no exception. And, in the interest of honest blogger-journalism, I'm offering a rundown of our schedule.

Friday afternoon/evening:

We're invited to see a movie with Papou & Nana. Disney's A Christmas Carol. Fantastic animation, script very accurate to Dickens, but ghosts and realism too scary for kiddos. Dinner after at local pizza place.

I then leave for Cooking Club. CyberLizard takes little lizards home to bed. Hours of socialization and cooking fun for me!

Saturday:

CyberLizard takes Max to another movie, this time Planet 51 (we don't usually do this many movies, but Max earned this one, and it was originally supposed to be Friday evening).

While the boys are out, Emma and I get to have some play time. For some reason, play time includes a lot of dancing around naked (for her) and singing songs about butt cheeks (also for her, though I did join in on the chorus).

After the boys get home & get ready, we head out to the Magic Kingdom at Walt Disney World with Nouno, Thea & Theo (Max's godfather and Emma's godparents). Highlights include me doing the hokey-pokey in the middle of Liberty Square, and standing in line for 45 minutes to NOT go on Space Mountain (soft opening, they shut it down right before we were to board).

Sunday:

(Alright, if you're paying attention, you'll realize that at the time this post is written, Sunday is but a mere idea... a faint shadow in the future. But how about you play along with me, and I'll tell you what we have planned for Sunday, okay? Picky, picky, picky.)

Ahem. Sunday we have our nephew Timothy's birthday party at Oma's house. Hilarity, various calls for the children to "settle down", and the ceremonial eating of cake. Max tells us several times that Timothy is two years younger than he is. Emma is universally charming until she starts singing the butt cheek song.

After the party, I head to Downtown Orlando for the high honor of babysitting my godson, Jackson. He's a perfect angel, and lets me cuddle him all I want. He also insists that I have a relaxing cup of tea and read him some educational books. I do believe that at one point, he turns seriously to me and states clearly, "You, gorgeous creature, are the most wonderful godmother ever!" (Look, I write the blog post, I make up the future, okay, people? It could happen!)

Sunday late night may or may not include one or more of the following things: stress about non-preparedness for camping, laundry, dishes, stress about unfinished state of laundry and dishes, snogging, blogging, stress about lack of groceries, chocolate, good conversation, fun, surprises, and sleep.

So there you have it. One weekend in my life. Both typical and totally atypical. Boring to most, slightly interesting to those featured in my weekend. Oh well, can't win them all, you know?

Birthday Kiss, Spank or Strumpet?

My birthday is fast approaching. (It's November 30th.)

I'll be 35 (remember, 35 is the new 18) and I've decided to ask for what I really want this year.

Now, don't everyone run out and buy me something. I want exactly zero somethings this year. I've given this a lot of thought, and what I would like is: love, kindness, peace, tolerance, acceptance, chocolate ice cream and a huge influx of cash for NASA funding.

Since that's a tough list for the individual to accomplish, I came up with some specific suggestions for your birthday gifts to me. I've even organized them into categories, for your gift-giving convenience. Please choose from the options below.

Option 1: 35 Kisses

I will be very happy to receive a nice kiss from any or all comers. Kisses are underrated, and they certainly spread love and affection (and possibly weird viruses - kiss healthy, people).

I love kisses.

The location of the kiss is completely up to the kisser, though please keep in mind that only kisses placed on my person will count as a birthday gift. No kissing my ring or shoes or any such nonsense. Top of my head is iffy - if you're my dad, it counts. If you're my 23-year-old neighbor, I think you can do better.

Those of you who should include tongue will hopefully know who you are.

Except for you, Colin Firth. You probably don't realize that your kiss should absolutely include tongue, and if it doesn't, you're just being rude. And you know that the British don't enjoy being rude.

Option 2: 35 Spankings

I will also accept spankings. Spankings can be fun, and I'm very sorry that the age-old practice of one-spank-per-year-plus-one-to-grow-on has generally been abandoned by popular society.

Of course, said spankings need to be the playfully naughty variety, not the Pa's-gone-to-get-the-belt variety.

Option 3: 35 British Slang References To Yours Truly

This option is especially useful as a gift from some of my online friends, who might not be able to travel the distance to kiss or spank. Essentially, it involves addressing me using some lovely (in)appropriate British (or Scottish, or Irish, you get the idea) slang words.

So far, I've been called a cheeky strumpet, a right cheeky strumpet, a pert little trollop, a minx, a hussy, a wench, a saucy wench, a tartlette, and a strumpetty minx.

Those are all wonderful, but feel free to mix and match to create your own colorful label for me. Then, call me by that sexy label as often as you like. The more frequently, the better. If you happen to have an accent (British or otherwise), get yourself some sort of recording device. Now.

Extra Special Bonus

If you really want to make my 35th amazing, and earn terrific birthday bonus points, you'll snog me, give me a slap & tickle on my bottom, & call me a cheeky strumpet. But watch out, you're playing with fire with that combination. ;-)

Why, Hello Roller Coaster

We meet again, emotions.

In the past, you have tempted me with your cheerful hand-painted sign, your smiling logo. Your sickeningly sweet, cotton-candy-flavored promises lured me in. I did not notice the steep incline, the plunging drop. I chose not to look at the corkscrew track with its violent, banking turns.

I did not realize how telling it was that I had to pull myself up to a minimum height. I did not give a second thought to the tight harness, the cutting belts.

I climbed in willingly, believing the marketing campaign when its posters assured me of "fun" and "laughter". I buckled the strap and gave an extra pull before giving a big thumbs-up to the attendant.

Then, it all went wrong. Every turn was a slap. Every sudden stop a knife. The click-click of the chain pulling me up the hill was the mocking caw of impending pain; the steep descent a savage fall into despair and fear.

And it was all a surprise. I didn't see it coming. I had my eyes pinched closed and every moment was a fresh shock, a new violation.

I was battered. Beaten. Crushed. My vulnerable spirit was broken, unable to withstand that unexpected force.

That is how it has been.

But this time, things are different.

Now, I recognize you. I see you and label you honestly. I read the fine print. I choose to face you. I embrace you.

This time, I will be the victor. You will not take me by surprise with your force, your confusing twists and turns. I have my eyes open, ready to brace the whipping wind and the stings that come with it. I will feel all of it, the good and bad, the excitement and fear, the fun and the fury.

This time, I will not be pulled, unwilling.

This time, I will ride.

NASA Tweetup Photos

I've had a couple of requests for photographic evidence of my attendance at the Tweetup, and rather than argue about why you need proof, I'll just chalk it up to you wanting to see more pics of me. :-)

So, here you are - a few of my favorite photos from the NASA Tweetup. See? It actually happened!

Fangirl, Taking Off

I'm famous!

Well, maybe I'm not famous, per se.

But my tweet is famous!

The Wall Street Journal (along with other news sources) had this story from the Associated Press, on Monday's launch of the Atlantis Space Shuttle (STS-129). A bit more than halfway through the article came this reference to the NASA Tweetup:

NASA officials were pleased with the seemingly perfect launch, but the Twittering invitees were downright ecstatic. They were among the first to sign up online last month for the opportunity to see a launch up close, and filed Twitter updates practically nonstop.

"Never been more proud to be a geeky, dorky, intelligent space fangirl!!" one wrote a few hours before liftoff.

Wow, aside from there being an awful lot of adjectives in there, that seems like a pretty cute tweet! Enthusiastic, proud of our space program, self-identifying as a geek and a dork, not to mention intelligent. Using the colloquial term fangirl, which everyone knows can only be used by someone effortlessly hip, who is well versed in new media.

I'm sure you can't imagine what adorable Tweeter could possibly have typed those priceless less-than-140 characters, right? Wait, you guessed? Really? Way to steal my moment, people. Okay, yes, it was me! Little 'ole me! I tweeted the tweet that summed up the whole experience for old media.

Though, now that you mention it, no one really knows it was my tweet. The Associated Press didn't credit the tweet. So, unless you were following the Twitter stream, you probably wouldn't know. But I'm stating it here, with proof, for posterity, and, well, because it is so cool! Here it is, my actual tweet, tweeted by me on the twitterrific Twitter:

Never been more proud to be a geeky, dorky, intelligent space fangirl!! #nasatweetup

11:49 AM Nov 16th from Echofonhttp://twitter.com/JSWadley/status/5769466780

Wow! That seems so moving, such a perfect sum-up of a momentary emotion. In fact, it makes me realize that, really, many of my tweets were deserving of national press. They are important, vital inoculations of information in teeny, tiny doses. And, just for your reading pleasure and continued education, I provide them for you. You may thank me by calling me a cheeky strumpet.

Look how close we are to the VAB!! #nasatweetuphttp://twitpic.com/pr42q9:19 AM Nov 16th from Echofon
Why yes, that is me. AT THE COUNTDOWN CLOCK!! Geeky Vanna! #nasatweetup http://twitpic.com/pr6gx9:45 AM Nov 16th from Echofon
Articulate geeks FTW! Just got interviewed! ;-) #nasatweetup11:55 AM Nov 16th from Echofon
Checking out actual samples of the heat shield tiles. The ceramic glass coating is like an eggshell! #nasatweetuphttp://twitpic.com/prlsw12:09 PM Nov 16th from Echofon
Can you believe the size of these nuts? They split in half to release the shuttle during launch. #nasatweetuphttp://twitpic.com/prm9812:13 PM Nov 16th from Echofon
@gfitz: We're in a fancy #twent, with tables & ac, not on stands. & lots with laptops. Here's a look. #nasatweetuphttp://twitpic.com/prqej12:48 PM Nov 16th from Echofon
Who's this cute astronaut? ;-) #nasatweetuphttp://twitpic.com/prv1a1:26 PM Nov 16th from Echofon
Stopping to think for a minute. Taking it all in. This experience is so humbling, an honor that I will never forget.#nasatweetup2:16 PM Nov 16th from Echofon
Standing where I am, I can see the clock 30 feet from me, and have a perfect view of the launch pad. #nasatweetup2:24 PM Nov 16th from Echofon
This is the shot you get when you're crying too hard to take press the button. #nasatweetup http://twitpic.com/ps5w52:49 PM Nov 16th from Echofon
Found my words: Beautiful. Amazing. A blast-off of science and human ingenuity and bravery and tenacity and love, yes love! #nasatweetup2:54 PM Nov 16th from Echofon
A final thought - focus on the powerfully positive experience we've shared and the future for NASA is bright! #nasatweetup4:00 PM Nov 16th from Echofon

Thoughts on the Tweetup from the Tired

I have the words, but it is difficult to put them together in a way the accurately describes today.

Amazing. Humbling. Inspirational. Exciting. Overwhelming. Emotional.

I didn't really know what to expect from the NASA Tweetup for STS-129. Having few expectations made it easy for NASA to completely impress me. And they did that. And then some. They treated us with such respect, and gave us a VIP experience I never expected. They answered endless questions, provided dozens of speakers, and seemed sincerely interested in our participation.

I didn't expect to meet such amazing people. I met almost 100 space fans, scientists and new media gurus. And every person was fascinating, intelligent, entertaining, sincere and kind. I now have dozens of new Twitter friends from all over, and each one makes me smile.

I didn't expect to learn so much. Although I am a big fan of the space shuttle and of NASA's programs, I am not a scientist or space blogger. I was nervous that my limited knowledge would be an embarrassing detriment. It wasn't. And I learned so much about the shuttle and the space program, I now feel like a much more deserving ambassador.

I didn't expect my emotional response. I knew that I would probably cry when Atlantis went up, but I didn't realize that many things would bring tears. Watching the big clock count down, and the shuttle go up, was an intimate, personal, experience, and I got to share in the emotion with everyone there, and everyone following us on Twitter.

And, I didn't expect to be so exhausted after two days. I can barely keep my eyes open, and scenes from the day keep replaying in my head. I'm taking myself to bed to dream big dreams.

An Explosion of Geeky Goodness!

In an appalling lack of original thought after more than 12 hours of NASA excitement, I bring you today's blog post - some of my favorite tweets of the day.

Now I just need to post a link to this on Twitter and the social communication convergence will be complete. ;-)

Here's to all of the fantastic geeky people I met today! See you tomorrow for the launch of STS-129!

I'm here at Kennedy Space Center!! Can't control the goosebumps! :-D #nasatweetup

Just met @starstryder!! Squee!! So much geeky awesomeness in one room!! #nasatweetup

#nasatweetup they are using big words "to let you know we're rocket scientists" ooh dessicant plug.

#nasatweetup I am learning so much I think my brain is leaking. What's my name again? What was that about a beer keg?

#nasatweetup Oh, he said orbital manuvering system. Sexy.

#nasatweetup People, repeat after me. Space is sexy!!

#nasatweetup Astronauts apparently put on skits. I love these people. :-D

#nasatweetup More men than women here, but I'm at an all SpaceFanGirl table!

#nasatweetup Should I have @Astro_Mike autograph my breasts? For #boobiewed breast cancer research!

#nasatweetup Have met so many fascinating people! So many walks of life love NASA and Space!! (Remember, space is sexy!!)

#nasatweetup This is an explosion of geeky goodness. :-)

Little me, big rocket. (thanks for photo @FyreHyde)#nasatweetup http://twitpic.com/pnk9d

OMG driving out toward launch pad. Just saw where we'll be tomorrow. Insane geekgasm! #nasatweetup

What's that? Oh yeah, it's the SPACE SHUTTLE people!!!! Oh, and some hot chick who wanted in the pic. #nasatweetup http://twitpic.com/pnv9c

NASA Tweetup Nerves

I feel like I'm in that dream. You know, the one where you are on the school bus, or giving a speech, or thumping the melons at the grocery store, when you realize you're absolutely naked?

I am feeling that kind of nervousness and embarrassment about tomorrow's NASA Tweetup.

Do you think there will be a test?!

Maybe, when we get there to register, they'll give us a test to make we know our space stuff. Everyone will breeze through, muttering memorized equations and talking about the mass of various chemicals when in a semi-gaseous state. Jeepers, I don't even feel confident imagining the test questions - I'm already failing!

Maybe they'll let me down easily, then snicker behind my back. Maybe they've never met someone who couldn't describe the current atmospheric conditions in ten words or less, or who didn't know the velocity needed to exit the Earth's atmosphere without some major cramming and a cheat sheet.

Maybe they'll kindly show me the way to the snack bar, shake their heads sadly and murmur "Tsk, tsk. Such a shame. Bet she just came for the Astronaut Ice Cream!"

I was a Liberal Arts major, people! My Sex Roles in Modern Society class did not prepare me for playful scientific banter with people like Dr. Pamela Gay! (Aka Star Stryder, an astronomer filled with such awesomesauce, I cannot even speak her name aloud.)

But, maybe everything will be fine. Maybe they have a special section of the Tweetup for the less deserving, charity cases. Maybe they'll provide us with coloring sheets (Decorate your own Space Shuttle!) and study materials (Counting Backward from 10 to 1, a Beginner's Guide).

For the record, though, and for posterity before I potentially humiliate myself, I just love NASA. I love the space program. I love the Space Shuttle. I love the Kennedy Space Center. I love astronauts and astronomers. I get goosebumps every single time a Shuttle or rocket lifts off, and just hearing the chatter on the NASA TV station raises my heart rate.

And, it's in my blood! That's right! In 1974, my father and mother brought a group of students from the New York Institute for the Blind to the Kennedy Space Center. The students, and my parents, got a very special tour of the Space Center, during which the blind students were able to actually touch some of the artifacts and exhibits. They even got to drive the Lunar Roving Vehicle (yes! the actual moon buggy!) And guess what? I was THERE! In the womb! Already predisposed to love NASA and to reach for the stars!

As my Papa always said:

"What's our motto, Jenny?"

"If You Can Dream It, You Can Do It!"

Let's just hope I don't have one of those naked dreams tonight. I would hate to do that.

How I Became A Shameless Flirt

OK, I'm half kidding. I'm not really a shameless flirt. Well, not most of the time, anyway. There are certainly times when my darling husband would disagree, but most of the time I'm flirting with him anyway, so....

I think I got off topic there. Let's see, how does this go? Oh, that's right....

*****************

Once upon a time, there was Girl. Girl was kind, smart, and maybe a little too desperate to find true love, but she did have an unhealthy obsession with fairy tales, so that's to be expected. Girl meets guy in middle school and has a friend. Girl falls in love with guy in high school and has a boyfriend. Girl marries guy in college, and has a husband. Girl never learned to flirt, but Girl doesn't really need to flirt, after all, she's very happily married. Still, she is somewhat disappointed that she never got to experience this particular rite of passage.

Girl becomes Woman. Woman becomes Mother. Girl is no longer Girl, but Earth Mother. Breastfeeding, Sling-Wearing, Earth Mother. Earth Mother has no need to flirt. All is well.

After several years, Earth Mother is tired. Earth Mother becomes Woman, still Mother but so much more. Woman begins to feel a stirring in her bones. To her astonishment, Woman starts to become Girl. Girl wants to play and flirt! Woman tries to reason with Girl, saying, "Your time has passed. Wear brown and black clothes. Wear sensible shoes. You have no need to flirt."

Girl laughs. Girl's eyes sparkle. Girl puts on short red plaid skirt, polka-dotted panties, sexy bra, low-cut shirt and shoes that mock the word sensible. Girl tosses her long pigtails and skips to the door, singing merrily as she goes, "Silly woman, come with me and we'll learn how to flirt!"

And that's how this smart, accomplished, nurturing Woman became a giddy, fun-loving Girl, and yes, a shameless flirt.

What Did You DO Today?

As homeschoolers, we often hear that question. Actually, stay-at-home moms in general hear that question a great deal, in my experience, but that's another post. (And no, we're NOT EATING BON-BONS! Jeez!)

Sometimes, well-meaning family members or friends will ask this question of me, or even of my kids. I should say, most of the time they are well-meaning, but sometimes they are just looking for dirt with which to smear.

Sometimes, my husband will ask this question of me, and the kids, depending on what category of hurricane has apparently come through the house.

Most of the time, though, I ask this question of myself.

I've mentioned that we are eclectic unschoolers. We use some structured teaching methods, sure. And even some curricula. But the way we go about school is mostly child-led. That means some days, we do nothing at all that is obviously "schoolwork". And other days, we spend hours on one particular subject, learning all we can about one topic. (Mummies getting their brains pulled out through the nose was a good solid four hours of fun.)

When we've had several "no schoolwork" days in a row, I start to get a little nervous. Maybe that's my public-school education talking, but going a while without busywork makes me feel like I'm slacking in some way.

Which brings us to today.

Today brought us the most glorious weather this humid, hot state has seen in months. It was cold (for Florida), with a light, misty rain that would have been snow in another state. The rain felt like cold, tiny kisses. It was marvelous.

The kids reacted to this cool weather by immediately demanding to go outside and play. :-) Max in jeans and a too-small firefighter jacket. Emma in old-fashioned pajamas with a sweater on top and no shoes. (Yes, that's right. I let my kid out in the cold weather with no shoes. This is still Florida, people.)

They ran and laughed and had fun on the swings until we were cold enough to come inside. Then we opened the windows in the house and took turns putting our cold hands onto each other's backs.

What else did we do? We talked about continents, and countries and states. We laughed about a country being called Greenland, when it is icy and snowy. (Marketing at work, kids!) We learned about Digraphs from a cool poster Max picked out at the teacher store.

We read books. A lot of books. Some awesome (How I Became a Pirate and Diary of a Worm), some that could be lost forever, in my opinion (Walter and whatever farting situation he's gotten himself into this time).

We played games. We played. Period.

And when Max said

"Hey Mommy! It's so cold! Let's make soup and popcorn and cuddle on the couch with a blanket and watch a Christmas movie!"

I said,

"Sounds like a fantastic idea!"

And then I remembered, again, why I love homeschooling. And I kept remembering all day... even through the 142nd viewing of Home Alone.

NASA Tweetup FTW!

It is all thanks to my husband!

10... As I recently complained, my dear, darling husband convinced me to join the Twitter revolution.

9... Intrigued, I started following some of the same geeky people and groups that he follows.

8... I started following NASA, because, hey, it's awesome! And, that's geeky goodness for the whole family. And, we live close enough to actually see the space shuttle go up in the sky.

7... Husband told me about a nifty thing called the NASA Tweetup.

6... Husband explained what a "meetup" was, then I made the intellectual leap to figure out what a tweetup was all about.

5... Husband and I got online, at our respective computers, at exactly the right time, and typed furiously to try to be one of the few chosen NASA twitter followers to be honored with a spot at the tweetup.

4... We were both placed on the waiting list.

3... We were resigned, and disappointed.

2... About a week ago, I received an email informing me that A SPOT HAD OPENED UP FOR ME!

1... I am going to the NASA Tweetup!! It is THIS Sunday and Monday! Woot!

All systems are go for launch! I am ready for ignition! I can't wait to liftoff! And, also, I am ready to use any and all space program puns to bring you this Homeschooling Mom's experience!

Be advised: I am a lower-level geek. I do not have the EXP to report on this stuff from a scientific perspective. I am *just* a space-loving fangirl mom who has an awesome opportunity to experience, observe and report. Don't expect a technical discussion, people. Do expect some humor, and more than a few embarrassing moments for yours truly.

And in that vein, would someone please tell me what to wear? All my scientist lab coats are at the cleaner's! :-)

And P.S. Thanks sweetie! This is all thanks to you!

Need. Sleep.

I love posting to this blog. I truly do. But tonight, this crap is all you get. Why? Because Emma woke up crying from the growing pains in her legs.

Between the stress and the screaming, I'm beat. I'll have more fun tomorrow, I promise!

How Can They Torture You When You're Already Dead?

I'm sure you know this already, but... we are those people. No, not those people. And no, no, definitely not THOSE people. We are homeschoolers.

And by we, I mean, my husband and I are homeschooling our two children. Our son, Max is in first grade, and has been homeschooled since pre-k. Emma's only three, so I guess we're homeschooling pre-k now.

Now, before you jump to any conclusions, and I'm sure you will, we are not THAT kind of homeschooler. Or, maybe we are. Depends on your point of view, I guess. Here's the boilerplate: We are liberal, secular homeschoolers using an eclectic, unschooling approach. We're not homeschooling to shelter our kids, or to teach them our narrow view of the world, or to protect them from the evils of public education and other children. I am rather long-winded about why we homeschool, I've addressed it before and I will again, but not today.

Today I want to talk about hell.

Bear with me. Our family belongs to a local homeschooling group that organizes cooperative classes and field trips. Every Monday, we attend "Co-op" with this group. The group is secular, though not everyone in the group is a secular homeschooler, by any means. But the classes do not have a religious theme or undertone.

Today's co-op was about Thanksgiving. It was the third in a series of Thanksgiving-themed co-ops. The first, which we missed due to illness, was about Pilgrims. The second was about Native American Indians. This one was about the first Thanksgiving, and Thanksgiving traditions and practices.

The leader of today's co-op read a couple of children's books about Pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving. I'm sure that it was difficult for her to find some that were appropriate for our ages (generally 4-6) and not too religious. However, both books talked about God, about giving thanks to God for harvest, freedom to worship, etc. The poem she read was very generic about thanks ("I see praise...") rather than an obvious reference to God.

OK, what's the point of all this, you ask? Well, the references to God made for a very interesting post-co-op discussion with Max. It all started with:

"Mommy, do you believe in God?"

This is a fair question coming from a seven-year-old who has a vocal atheist for a father. But Max knows that his Daddy and I don't have the exact same feelings on the subject. My feelings are pretty complicated on that subject, and more complicated than I was ready to share while driving a minivan in lunch hour traffic. So... I did answer him, honestly but briefly, and told him we could discuss it in more depth later. Then... diversion!

Several minutes later, Max utters this gem:

"I'm not angry about it or anything, but I just don't GET hell! I just don't GET it! Come on, they think you're going to be on fire for the rest of your life after you die just because you don't believe in God?! I don't get it! And how can they torture you if you're already DEAD?!"

"If someone asks me if I believe in God, and I say no, they're going to say I'm going to hell. And I'll say 'No, I'm NOT! Because I don't believe in it!' If I don't believe in it, it isn't going to happen! It's like Daddy says, you have to have proof!"

I pretty much left it at that. He was very confident in his views, and didn't ask for any further input from me. But I am so proud of my rational, skeptic son and I anticipate a lot more of these discussions in the months and years to come. Better do some more soul-searching to be ready. :-)

Codeword: Manchild

Shhh!!!

This post must will self destruct in five minutes, or immediately if at any time you imagine a purple elephant breakdancing.

This is a top-secret, priority message. It is meant only for you. Yes, you! Yes, really, it is meant for you. Of course I know who you are. How else could I have meant it to go to you? Umm... you're confusing me now. Just... just read the message, ok? Jeez.

Ahem. Don't tell anyone, but I'm throwing my husband, the Cyberlizard, a surprise party for his 35th birthday! At the LEGO store! I know, right?! How dorky-cool is that? He loves LEGOs! (Well, maybe love is not a strong enough word. "Obsessed" works.)

He's always wanted a surprise party, and what better way to celebrate turning 35 than to have a child's birthday party at your favorite toy store? And who would suspect a surprise party on their 35th birthday anyway? Party stores don't sell pre-printed napkins for the half-decades, people - it's either 30 or 40. 35 falls between the cracks. Non-obviousness WIN!

And, I'm throwing in all of the awesome surprise-party-planning-extras, like "we have to go to our son's friend's birthday party" and "I'm sorry we can't do anything fun for your birthday because we're broke". Just think of the shocked look on his face when he realizes how many lies I've told him over the last 48 hours!

So, be there to witness the Gotcha! moment. Or relive it later with full-color photographs. Either way you'll make one manchild's birthday very special indeed.

I'm back, and I'm being informed that our self-destruct software parameters have failed. Apparently the system was overloaded with thoughts of purple breakdancing elephants. So I guess I'm going to have to rely on you to self-destruct this post... yourself. Seems kind of pointless, doesn't it? Ok, well, just don't tell anyone about it, since it is a secret.

Umm, well, now I'm getting word that, actually, the aforementioned secret is no longer, in actuality, a... well, secret. Since it already happened and all.

But, I have been given clearance to tell you that "All secret operations were completely successfully, and the integrity of the secret was not compromised." Translation: Cyberlizard was completely shocked and thrilled with his surprise party, and no kids spilled the beans.

I thank you all for your support of this mission. Keep on the lookout for details about our next mission, Operation NowYouKnowDasherAndDancerAndPrancerAndVixen.

35 is the new 18

My dear, sweet, wonderful husband turns 35 today. Yep, that's right, halfway to the big 4-0. But you won't find him upset about it. See, hubby is a complete kid at heart.

My hubby and I met way back when we were in middle school. Back then, I was about a foot taller than he was, and I could have taken him down in one punch. He was a little thing. We had classes together, and on one memorable field trip, I befriended him because he seemed lonely and depressed. That was the start of our friendship, and we grew closer during high school. He liked Dungeons & Dragons, Metallica, & Robotech. He also liked Republicans, boiled peanuts, and to explain to me why I was a hippie and how I was wrong.

Fast forward 20-odd years and he's my husband and right smack dab in the middle of adulthood. But most days, I'm staring right at that antagonistic kid who was my friend in high school.

Not physically, thank goodness. That little guy grew into himself, and although you'd never call him tall, he's got a couple of inches on me now. He can also grow a beard, which, between you and me, pleases him to no end. And he has chest hair, which is a late-blooming, but entirely sexy benefit of adulthood.

He still loves Dungeons & Dragons, though now he plays with our son. He may also like Metallica, but he knows better than to play them in my presence. I've converted him to Depeche Mode, They Might Be Giants and Barenaked Ladies. (He never has appreciated the Indigo Girls though.)

He still plays video games & still loves Robotech with a passion I don't quite understand. (Don't tell me this, but apparently the name Maximilian was inspired by a character in Robotech. I've blocked this out as I refuse our kid to be named after an anime character. We just loved the name, OK? Never mention this again.)

He's no longer a republican. He not only loves boiled peanuts, but also appreciates and critiques them like you would a fine wine. He's embraced many of my "hippie" qualities and has become a better world citizen for it, but he still loves to debate me (and gently insinuate that I'm wrong).

As an adult, he understands that we have to pay the mortgage and power bill before he gets a new LEGO set (most of the time). He doesn't pout (often) when I come home from the toy store with stuff for the kids but nothing for him. And, well, he still leaves his clothes all over the floor, but now he has a sexy wife asking him to pick them up, so he's more receptive to the request.

He calls himself selfish. But I think that's just a label he puts on to justify his continuing love of play, toys, games, and naps. He's not selfish. He works everyday to make our family's life more comfortable and complete. He brings me tangible joy in dozens of little ways each day.

And every time I watch him play with our kids, I see that funny, imaginative, brilliant guy I fell in love with, and I am so very thankful that he hasn't grown up.

Happy Birthday Sweetie.

Rundown by the Renaissance Faire

I took the kids to the Renaissance Faire today. Amazing how seven hours in another century will wipe you out. I'm exhausted. Photos of the adventure will have to wait for another day. I have a root beer hangover and I'm being put to bed by my adorable hubby.

You, Me, and a Gorilla Costume

We are a costume family. For me, loving costumes, dress-up and imaginative play-acting is hard-wired into my brain (I was originally a theatre major, after all). The love affair began early, and I happily passed on that particular obsession to my son.

Max has always loved dressing up too. The list of characters, and therefore costumes, is seemingly endless. Every costume can be used in a variety of ways, and we have quite the collection - a couple store-bought new, many passed on from friends and family, some gems that are homemade, and some great clearance deals.

Although his tastes these days run to particular characters (Star Wars), Max has a very inclusive attitude toward dressing up. The first time he was given an amount of money to spend at a store, he picked out a lovely blue Cinderella dress. He loved it, but was unhappy with its comfort factor: "Mommy, dresses are itchy!" He's had Buzz Lightyear, Peter Pan, Mario (of Super Mario Bros. fame) and several knights. He's done Ninjas, animals, and Frodo Baggins. He often comes up with elaborate designs for costumes, many of which are destined to stay on paper.

Emma seems to enjoy following in his footsteps. She has her own costume box, which, thanks to the generosity of a family friend, is filled with many princess outfits. But, she's just as likely to put on her brother's smaller outfits or make up her own. The dresses don't generally stay on for long (apparently, they really are itchy).

Family and friends have brought us beautiful dress-up clothes from Mexico, Thailand and India. Daddy has made a Ninja Turtle and an awesome Hercules costume, which only recently ended its reign as my favorite. I've even lent a hand, making a stormtrooper out of printer paper and brads and some crocheted chain mail and a helmet.

Halloween is a favorite time of year for us, not only because everyone else enjoys dressing up like we do, but also because of the after-Halloween clearance sales! Yesterday at Target we picked up a surgeon and cowboy for Max, Super Girl for Emma, and... a gorilla for Daddy. Yes, a big, hairy gorilla at 75% off. Never mind that when we got it home we realized that Emma is petrified of the gorilla costume and now refuses to go into the master closet.

Still... this gorilla has potential... strong, animalistic potential. And here I am, an innocent maiden who happens to wear sheer nightgowns. Um, I think I am going to stop this post right here. I need to see a man about a gorilla.

Mother's Intuition and Vomit

Anytime the word vomit makes it into the title of a blog post, you know it can't be a good thing.

I have the weird mother's intuition about vomit. Actually all sickness in my kids, most of the time. Little Emma just had to look at me tonight and say in her little voice, "my tummy hurts" and there I was, knowing before I picked her up that she had a fever, and basically ready to catch the vomit. Well, maybe I wasn't completely prepared. The couch smells pretty bad right now.

When she had pneumonia over Christmas last year, I was the one who decided we had to take her to the doctor in Breckenridge. I guess I'm just pretty tuned into my kiddos since I spend, well, practically 24 hours a day with them.

At any rate, I'm emotionally drained now (this cycle of worry begins every time a child is sick), so I'm putting myself to bed. After scrubbing my hands with soap and disinfectant. And cleaning the couch. And posting this post....

The Drug That Is Twitter

When my hubby started pestering me to use Twitter, I was very reluctant. In fact, I'm pretty sure I remember stating emphatically that I would never "tweet" and that the thought was ridiculous. Oh, how above it all I must have felt back then, those... um, two months ago.

My primary argument against Twitter was that I had nothing to say and that no one was interested in the mundane details of my everyday life. And, there, I was both wrong and right.

I do have lots to say. This should not come as a surprise. My sister and I are both loud and rather enthusiastically insistent about our opinions (qualities developed over years of trying to get the most attention at home, and especially in the car - loudest one gets heard, and therefore wins).

But, well, no one is really that interested in the mundane details of my daily life. I mean, I do have some moments to share and stories to tell that are not mundane, that are amusing or insightful or titillating. But honestly, no one cares what I had for breakfast.

What I didn't realize about Twitter, though, is that it really isn't about me. Yes, tweeting allows me to record my life in a more honest, journalistic way. Those little 140-characters force me to get to the heart of the matter - to say what I really mean without fluff or fanfare. I can't hide behind posturing and careful wording designed not to offend.

Again, though, it isn't really all about me. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love having a little voice that is my own, out there and able to be heard by anyone who is interested or bored. I love, LOVE it when something I wrote makes someone laugh, or smile, or wink. The self esteem boost of a mention is a pretty powerful drug. Direct Messages hold the promise of a secret, of a private whispered word, or a shared personal connection. They feel... intimate.

And I love being able to retweet - to take something someone else wrote and let it define me by its repetition - hey, this tweet has inspired or angered or confused me, doesn't this tell you more about me, and the person I am? The thoughts of other that I admire become a window into myself, and my thoughts. I love sharing that view with others.

When you get down to it, however, Twitter isn't about me. I love being able to make new friends, and follow people who make me feel good about myself, about my world, about my choices. Or, alternatively, people who make me feel angry and righteous and empowered. Often those are the same people.

I love the information exchange that is Twitter. I love that it makes me feel more informed, and more passionate, and more honest, and more curious, and more accepting, and more critical. It makes me feel more connected, more a part of the big sphere of humanity. I even love that it makes me hang out in the bathroom stall for no productive reason, and stay up long after my bedtime to see what others up late are thinking. (Usually, why am I up so late?)

But, you know, Twitter isn't really about....

...

...

Well, damn. I guess Twitter is all about me. No wonder it rocks.

Again, I am the Student

I don't know about you, but I tend to analyze my parenting quite a bit. In all honesty, I analyze every facet of my behavior and my thoughts more than I should, but, being a parent, the am-I-a-sucky-parent thoughts are usually front and center.

Today was a mixed results day. We usually have a co-op class with our local homeschooling group on Mondays. Today's co-op was a kick-ass crafting session to make medieval/renaissance costumes for the kids to wear on our upcoming field trip to the Renaissance Faire.

Our fearless leader for today (and you have to be fearless when you're facing a room full of 2-7 year-olds and telling them to use fabric glue) came up with awesome costumes for knights and ladies.

So there I was, trying to take in the instructions for both the knight and lady costumes, handle the uber-whiny three-year-old, keep the seven-year-old from running in the classroom, keep the fabric scissors from the neighboring small one... you get the picture. I had my hands full of fabric glue, fabric paint, sharpie markers, sharp implements, and metal brads that will skewer your fingers, and, of course... disaster.

The knight costume's crest was cut out, fabric-glued on, and outlined and decorated with fabric paint - and drying. On the table. Why yes, that is the table within reach of every hand in the room. Umm, yes, including the hands that are currently running by the table full speed, waving shields, helmets, and the occasional piece of fabric fruit.

You, having the benefit of my foreshadowing skills, may be able to guess what happened. But in case you are distracted by my run-on sentences, I'll spell it out for you. The knight's shirt was suddenly lying in a lump on the floor - in a sticky, blue-and-silver-and-glue pool of stain on the carpet. Fabric paint was everywhere - spread all over the shirt, on the chairs, table and aforementioned carpet. The perfectly designed masterpiece of decorated cotton was ruined.

I was pissed. I kind of lost it, in an attachment-parenting, other-parents-are-watching-this sort of way. I was mad at our ruined work, at our painstaking attention to detail wasted. I huffed and puffed as I cleaned up the paint, wiped down the carpet, chair and table.

But Max? He said "Hey, it's okay, mommy! We'll just add some more paint and make it super-sparkly! It will look cool!"

And, right there, my kid bested his mom. He had the calm, look-on-the-bright-side, positive attitude that I should have mastered. He faced the lemons and made an amazing lemonade. And he did it all with a big smile on his face. He went to work with the fabric paint and made a creation all his own, with lots of extra swirls and swishes. He was thrilled. I was thrilled, and humbled.

I know they say that kids teach their parents just as much as the parents teach their kids. Max taught me today, and I am so proud to be his parent, his teacher, and his student.

Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

Hello! Nice to see you. It's been a while, hasn't it? You're looking good - your hair's shorter. No, I like it. It looks great, I can't get my hair to flip up like that. So... how have you been?

Since it has been almost a full calendar year since I've last posted, I thought a few niceties were in order. As any good friends who haven't seen each other in a while will attest, it takes a little warming up to get back into the groove of intimate conversation. And I want to get back into the groove. If there's one thing we could all use a little more of, it's groove.

So, here it is, the first day of November, 2009. And a friend on Twitter reminded me that NaBloPoMo starts today. So, I though, why not give it a try. Try again to establish some regular blogging. Get some of these many crazy thoughts out of my head and onto unsuspecting blog surfers who type in search terms like "flip up hair". Aren't they in for a surprise?

Luckily, they can just move right on. This blog will not interest them, since I can't get my hair to flip out in a cute way.

So, let's resume reestablishing our connection, and we'll work on that intimacy thing as the month progresses. Let's go easy, shall we?

So, yes, the kids are getting so big! Max is seven now! I know, I can hardly believe it myself. Mario is less popular now, we're onto Star Wars and Indiana Jones. All LEGOs all the time, right?

Yep, that's right, Emma is three. No, she still doesn't love having her hair washed. Or brushed. Or put up. Or having pieces of food taken out of it. Yes, she is a bit of a Wild Thing.

Ha! Of course I'm still married! A bit of a cheeky flirt, aren't you? Hubby is doing great - yes, he still has his iPhone permanently attached to his palm. Oh, you heard about that? I know, not many people pull muscles in their hands from excessive iPhone use. And the huge bruise on his stomach from walking into that pole while tweeting. We had a good laugh about that, once he stopped crying.

Me? I'm great. Thanks for asking. Still typing two spaces after periods more often that not, that's a hard habit to break. Still hanging out in this cave in the woods. Still having fun and feeling joy.

Yeah, I have to go too. Let's do this again. Soon. We won't let it go so long this time, I promise. See you later, and take care!