Fordham Miller Fare

please stand by. we are experiencing technical difficulties...

on the few occasions i have tried to run over to the computer and file a quick post, i am envariably dogged by technological mayhem.  internet too slow, computer hung up on memory hogging virus detection software, or the computer just plain crashes.

anyway, where was i?  oh yes.  lice.  the post below was written in early march.  i managed to resolve the bug problem with my own head in two easy treatments, but inexplicably madeleine's remains a constant battle.  i simply can not understand the tenacity of these creatures.  no matter what i do, they come back, after weeks of checking and seeing absolutely nothing.  here's what i have NOT done:  i have not tried mayonnaise; i have not tried olive oil; i have not tried the electronic Robi Comb; i have not tried combing through her entire head every single day of the week, which by the way takes an hour at a minimum, and washing her sheets every day, and cleaning the entire house every day, and getting rid of all hairbrushes and headbands and hats and all whatnot.  i HAVE tried Rid, cetaphil (the Rid plus cetaphil combination worked on Morgan), Resultz (which cured me), and just plain combing on an every two to three days schedule.  i clearly will NEVER get rid of them, so i might as well just get used to it!  i'm going to try next the "Head Lice to Dead Lice" program, which involves olive oil, and is meant for 'persistent infestations.'  and i promise not to bore you with any of the details anymore.  ugh, on top of everything is the tediousness of it all!

the people in your neighborhood

every fall it's the same thing.  the umass students come back.  they party.  they get drunk.*  they yell and scream.  they wake me up.  and sometimes i call the cops.

last night was a new experience.  a car horn went off continuously for 5-7 minutes at 11:40.  how does that happen?  who holds down a car horn for 7 minutes?  it wasn't an alarm, it was a horn.  just blaring.  not stopping.  looking at the ceiling, fully awake by the 3rd minute, i'm thinking, what do i say if call the cops?  um, there seems to be a disorderly car on my block, could you look into it?

then it stopped.  and i closed the window and turned on the ac.  and it was good.

*by they i mean, the ones on my street.  i'm sure the rest of them are studying hard.

HOLY *@#$%!!!!!! Round 2

Poor Amy's car got smashed while parked at the curb by our house.  Again, we all came through unscathed, save of course for the two cars and the guy who caused the collision, who thankfully suffered no injuries from the impact, but likely got his clock cleaned by the fiance who had insured the car.  At one point on his cell phone, he remarked to a friend: "I pulled a Robbie."  Which to my mind meant there's someone out there for whom smashing into parked cars is somewhat of a trademark.  Hmmmm.

P.S.  Maddy's Read-A-Thon tally for today, July 2: 11 books.

Great News! Or maybe not...

So, I've been following the progress of my 20th High School Reunion via the multitude of reunion websites that will suck $20 out of your wallet for a chance to stroll down memory lane.  Mostly I am doing this as some sort of pathetic way to have closure for a high school experience that was less than ideal (read: outsider, loser).  I had to come to terms with the fact that my 20th is being held during the brown fall/winter doldrums in a to-remain-nameless chain hotel ballroom, in a to-remain-nameless souless-desperation and galactic-depression-invoking suburb of a to-remain-nameless major urban center and national capitol.  Oh, and it will be 2 days after that wonderful holiday known for its positive mental health effects on families nationwide that generally involves a large turkey and lots of good getting together between family members who have nothing but love and respect for each other.  Okay, so I gave up on the idea of attending (even though OTHER classes from same not-to-be-named high school have THEIR reunions at SWANKY bars in said nation's capitol during seasons that don't involve overcoats.  I CONFIRMED this.  But I'm not bitter.)

That all aside, I was letting go of it all nicely and had pretty much forgotten about the whole thing when I got an email that said:

GREAT NEWS (insert name here)!  (Name of Person Sending Message here) has sent you an email!

So I clicked the 12 mouse clicks it took to finally open the email, to find...it was a message seeking info about a classmate who had passed away.  How depressing is that?  It was not someone I knew well (and since I've only stayed in touch with one person since high school, these familiar names are all essentially strangers to me), but it was someone I could conjure up, and it made me feel sad and lonely and mortal in a hopeless kind of way.  I had a poor night of sleep, but in the morning tried to turn the situation around by employing some black humor.  "Great News!!" will be a catch phrase in our home for a little while I think.

But when I laugh I feel guilty in a strange sort of way.  So for now I'll just have to say a small prayer of sorts for this person, may he rest in peace, be thankful for the long way I've come, and dispense with this whole thing altogether.

Concrete hurts

  I know this because I bumped into the Campus Center at UMass Amherst.  Not like "Oh, hey, Campus Center, good to see you, it's been a while."  More like, "Ouch, that smarts, hey I'm bleeding."

I've bumped into walls before, but I don't think I've ever walked into one that was made of solid concrete (a lot of UMass buildings are made of solid concrete, with maybe a little steel added as a decorative touch).  It was extremely unyielding, and harsh in it's response to me.  A normal wall, whether you realize it or not, gives a little when you walk smack into to.  Also, drywall generally doesn't rip at your flesh.  Concrete, not so forgiving.  Not forgiving at all really.  The cartoon stars swirled above my head and the little pinwheels spun in my eyes.

The REASON I walked into the wall was because whenever Bill and I show up at a family event in two separate cars, depature brings on the showdown of who gets to ride with who (whom?) in which car.  There is no equation that ends with everyone happy.  One wants to ride with the other one, one wants to ride without the other one.  One wants to be in the new car, but not with Mommy.  The other one wants to be with Mommy, but wants the new car.  One doesn't want Daddy to feel lonely on the way home.  Somehow we managed to divide into two groups without tears, and as I slunk away, my eyes were watching for the meltdown (when one realized he'd been abandoned by the other one), while the wall was doing what walls do best -- especially concrete ones.

No one saw me smack into the wall.  My cell phone was knocked from my hand, my other hand was bleeding, my head was swirling, and my daughter was oblivious.  Strangers were oblivious.  Which you would think would be a GOOD thing, but somehow I felt a little neglected.  Uh, hello?  Did anyone notice that I was just assaulted by this very menacing WALL?