Saturday, October 16, 2004

• Good morning.

   

  The cat knocked the lamp off my nightstand and woke me up. I'm grateful it didn't hit me in the nose, like it usually does. It's still very dark out, so I thought it was the middle of the night, but it's 7 a.m. I'm not sure if I'm up to stay, but I do like to get up and write when everyone is still sleeping.

   

  I should probably just stay up, because I have so many things to do today:

   

  • I'm working on deep cleaning this apartment, a bit at a time, so that could actually keep me busy all day, if I let it. Last weekend I did parts of the bathroom, but not all of it.
  • I have an article due in about 10 days and I need to get going on it. This will probably include an hour or two at the library, since I can't find the information I'm looking for laid out in a logical way on the web.
  • Writing for another project. This could also take all weekend, quite easily.
  • Finish two essays and send them out. One is almost done, one--not so much.
  • I'm planning to go downstairs to the exercise room and walk on the treadmill during today's Red Sox game. If the game's rained out, I hope I can find a good movie to watch, because I want to walk for a couple of hours. I find it difficult to read while I'm on the treadmill.
  • Costco run, for milk and Propel.
  • Open checking account at new bank. My bank's handling of the fraud, plus some other issues that have come up with my new account, tell me I've got to get outta there. My bank  "guarantees" "five-star service" but they don't tell us what the guarantee means, or exactly what they have to do to give five-star service. I would think if they're going to guarantee service, they should say "we will answer your questions within a certain time frame." As far as I know, they just say "five-star service guaranteed."
  • Fall into bed, exhausted, during the opening credits for SNL. This is what I do every Saturday. I know SNL isn't what it used to be, but I've been watching since I was 12. My dad told me in no uncertain terms that I was not to watch it, so of course I was hooked from that day forward. I didn't really expect back then that I'd still be watching at 39. Or that I would be 39.

   

  Other things:

   

  Mr. S is having a mini-breakdown over the website. He keeps talking about how I didn't do it right, it's not structured how he wants it, etc. The fact is, he's never even seen the website and has no idea how it's structured. He went to a meeting and tried to talk about it, but because he hadn't seen it and doesn't really understand websites,  did a miserable job. As he often does, he latched onto one small part of the website and explained it to death, and it didn't need to be explained at all. It was a behind-the-scenes thing. So everyone was confused, and he blames that on the site itself instead of his incompetence.

   

  He keeps telling me he wants different things on the site than he wanted before. In true Mr. S fashion, he doesn't just ask if we can add another thing, he acts like that's been the plan all along. I don't mind adding to it at all, but the constant criticism, especially when I busted my ass to meet his totally unreasonable deadline, is insane.

   

  I'm behind on commenting, but will try to get around to your sites this weekend. Oh, and welcome, new subscribers.

   

  Mack's conference went fairly well, except when we were waiting in line for her history (which they no longer call history) teacher. Mack turned to me and said, "I might as well tell you; I have missing work in this class." Yes, indeed, she does. She neglected to mention there was also missing work in math and English (which they no longer call English). The situation doesn't look too bad, though, and I think she can get it all caught up this weekend.

   

  Her band teacher said she's doing really well, and cautioned her that if she starts missing a lot of school (as is her usual pattern in the winter), she will be thrown out of the band because the music is just too hard to keep up with if you aren't there. She laid out really clear expectations: if you're not throwing up, come to school (or at least to band). We'll see how it goes.

   

  Tomsaaristo, Avert Your Eyes

   

  Mack has been complaining that she never gets her way (riiiiight) and never gets a say in anything. So last night I asked her to choose what she wants for dinner tonight (crock pot, of course--I love that when I'm so busy, I can toss a few things in there, and 8 hours later, it's dinner). She flipped through some recipe books and settled on this:

   

  Cheeseburger Sandwiches:

   

  1 ½ lbs. Ground beef

  ½ teaspoon garlic pepper

  8 oz. Velveeta, diced

  2 tablespoons milk

  1 cup chopped bell pepper

  ¼ cup chopped onion

  2 cloves finely chopped garlic

  12 sandwich buns

   

  Brown beef with garlic pepper, drain.

   

  Spray 3- to 4-quart slow cooker with cooking spray. Mix beef and remaining ingredients (except buns) in cooker.

   

  Cover and cook on low setting 6 to 7 hours. To serve, fill buns with beef mixture.

   

  I can't imagine something sounding any worse than this. The recipe is from one of those little Betty Crocker booklets you can find in the grocery checkout line. Even the picture looks like the grossest thing in the world.

   

  I think I'll have a big lunch today.

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