Week in Review - School's out for summer.

Hey! Guess what! So much news happened this week!  Unlike every other week where NOTHING EVER HAPPENS EVER.

I am taunting you with information about my past at Kelley's Break Room.  Go on over and check me out at Name That Job! What prior job did I actually have? Oh, you have no idea.  I bet.  Go.  Guess!

I'm organizing the inaugural 1940s Twitter Movie Night on Sunday, June 19, 2011, at 9:00pm EST.  The movie is The Philadelphia Story [thanks to the lovely @Mrsped for the assist in selecting the movie]. We'll all be watching the movie and live tweeting how awesome we think the whole stinking thing is. Use the #1940sMovie hashtag. Join me, please, so I don't feel like I have some sort of social disease.

The girl is officially done with middle school.  HOORAY.  The giant end of the year party is over.  I am almost officially done being PTA president. Oh, sweet relief.  Seriously.  So sweet.  Like a vodka ice pick in my brain sweet.

I am still PMSing like crazy! You may not consider this to be big news, but I assure you, everyone in my path will be talking about this for a LONG TIME to come.  A LONG TIME.

Evidently hockey fans in Vancouver take shit pretty seriously [and also may be PMSing?].  So seriously that the past couple of times that the Canucks went to the Stanley Cup Finals and lost in Game Seven, these bastards rioted in the streets.  Seriously? It's HOCKEY.  Let's keep the rioting where it belongs, on the ice.

This sounds like a particularly bad idea.  The Tennessee Valley Authority wants to revive a half-built nuclear reactor that's been in mothballs for the past 23 years.  Yeah.  Have these scientists seriously never seen a science fiction movie? How is that possible? I would like to direct them to that fine 1950s documentary about giant radioactive ants, THEM!. Who knows what kind of radioactive vermin are going to come shooting out of this thing? 

The Tea Party is trying to bring some younguns into its fold by hosting a summer camp.  Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be eerily reminiscent of Jesus Camp?  Or maybe God Camp?

What the hell? I don't get people.  I mean, I like Joss Stone and think she's a great singer, but can't fathom that someone - someones, I guess - would want to kill her.  I mean, she's pretty harmless so far as celebrities go, right? That's a lot of rage.  Maybe they weren't thrilled with her acting in the The Tudors?  I have no idea.

And finally, the winner of the Freedom contest is:

Flannery said...

To be unconventional, to question authority, to make choices unencumbered...freedom.

You all had amazing answers, truly, and I ended up randomly picking a number.  Because who can make that kind of Sophie's Choice?  Not me. That's for damn sure.

Flannery, please contact me with your info so I can send you . . . a surprise.  I'll take a photo when I put together the package and then share it with you all next week.  No, it's not just because I haven't picked out exactly what the gift is.  Not completely, anyway.  I've got ideas. LOTS of ideas.

What news do you have for me this week?

An Area for Concern . . . Or Maybe . . . What Now?

I'm a little worried about myself.

I know, when AREN'T I worried about myself?

But.

The past few days I've gotten a little . . . forgetful.  More forgetful than usual.

I spent several minutes wandering around the parking lot the other day, trying to find my car.

I keep mistyping things.

I'm always forgetting words.  The ones I'm trying to say.  You know, "Hey, can you give me the . . . thing . . . you know, that thing . . . that I need," which usually ends up being something as esoteric as the remote control or a napkin.

Plus, there's the usual stumbling and bumping into the walls that I do.  Which I wouldn't worry about too much, except it seems like it's getting worse.  Whereas I used to just walk into the corner of the wall on my way into the bathroom, now it seems like the coffee table is out to get me, as is the dishwasher and, frankly, the side of the car. 

I'm fervently hoping that the Alzheimers gene floating in my paternal pool isn't making a spectacularly early entrance.  I realize that I've got a lot on my plate right now, and I'm sure you're all forgetful, too, right? RIGHT? PLEASE SAY YES!!!  It's probably just a passing thing, one that will disappear when I get a few minutes to just focus on one thing at a time.

Except - I actually worried the other day that I wasn't getting dressed completely before I left the house. You know? You're in a rush and you think, o.k., I'm good to go and then I ended up in the car thinking, "Did I put on underwear?" And then I checked under the waistband and found I did, but that moment of not knowing? TERRIFIED ME.  Because I'm sure it's only a matter of time before I head out in just my bra, and not a cute one.

Also, I find that I'm tempted to start staying things like, "You're motherfucking goddamn right," or "Hiya, Cuntface." 

Actually, I'm kind of o.k. with that.

Sharing is caring, in a way that staring never could be.

I feel like I've gotten to know you, my lovely readers & fellow bloggers & friends on Twitter.  But I want to know more about you.  Your thoughts, your hopes, your dreams.  Your propensity toward becoming a deranged serial killer.  I want you to share deep thoughts and amazing revelations with me. I want to know what your answers are to this highly scientific psychological profile:

1.  If, say, you had to pee and you were in a chlorinated public pool, or at the beach, would you trudge back to your room or the locker room, or would you pee in the pool?  Be honest.  Even if you're wearing a Depends laden swimsuit.  Would it make a difference if you were alone?

2.  What's your favorite popcorn flavor?  Is it something good, like butter or caramel?  Or something only a person who hears fish talk [and then answers them, in fish language] would like, like cheese?

3.  Is it wrong to wish ill upon someone who you feel has wronged you?  What if that person is a jackass?  What if that jackass makes you want to punch them?  What then, Mother Theresa?  HUH?

4.  Speaking of hating, if you got to make someone you hate listen to one song, over and over, on repeat, what would that song be?

5.  Coke or Pepsi?

6.  Clueless is the best adaptation of Jane Austen's Emma, True or False.

Looks like we're going to have to make a cameo at the Val party. Source.

Ok, friends, share!

Ratios

It's been wicked hot out. Nasty hot.

So today, The Kid and I will hit the public pool (again).

I have a friend who despises public pools, railing about the chlorine v. urine factor. I try not to think about it, but just hope that chlorine edges out urine by a wide enough margin so that I don't have to worry too much about accidentally enjoying someone else's output.

Enjoy your day!

Whatever

So they keep yammering about this whole "disappearance of the bees" thing, and I'd just like to know - have they not looked in my yard?