Made in Richmond

One of my germ-toting children infected me with a wicked cold, so I will be home from school tomorrow. I’m OK with this though because I have a competent substitute coming in, so the kids won’t lose a day of learning.

It was really quite silly. I’d been feeling crappy for a couple days, but I was trying to be a trooper. Finally, I was walking through the front office and the school nurse spotted me. She said, “You have a fever, I can tell.” So, I had my temperature taken in the clinic for the first time since I was 8. A kid was in there and looked gobsmacked when he saw a teacher with a thermometer in her mouth. This reaction goes right along with the idea they have that teachers actually *live* at school. Anyway, the verdict was that I had a fever and reinforcements needed to be called for tomorrow. I’m really hoping that it snows and they don’t have school so I don’t have to use that sick day.

Thus, I will be in bed all day tomorrow. I’ve been in bed since 4:15 and I’m very excited to go back.

This was all I could do as the end-credits rolled on Jesus Camp. I mean, this was the only outward, physical response. My insides were boiling. I don’t know what to say yet. I’ll get back to you.

So we all know that I’ve pulled a muscle in my chest, blah blah, blah. Well, you’d think after talking about it so much I’d realize that I’d be more aware of it in my everyday life. No. I’m not. In fact, I believe I’ve pushed myself even further since my doctor told me to take it easy.

Case in point: yesterday. Ross has been begging for some low-riding book shelves to sit next to our low-riding bed. Being the wonderful wife that I am, I decided to take care of the problem yesterday since it was a half-day at school. I went to Target and found a very cheap and very workable answer to my husband’s request. So, I loaded them up in my cart, then loaded them into my car, then loaded them out of my trunk, them loaded them up to my porch, then loaded them up the stairs. Lots of loading, as you can see.

About 2 hours after everything was put together, I started to feel that slight twinge that had been plaguing me for the last few weeks. The twinge then turned into a throb which turned into an invisible person punching me in the chest. Then I said, “I am an idiot.”

I woke up today and had a ridiculously hard time physically getting myself out of bed. It hurt to raise my arms to wash my hair in the shower. Putting on a shirt almost killed me. I smell like Icy/Hot. It’s gonna be a great day.

Ross, Susan, Justin, and I are in a battle to the death. Whoever gets the most Oscar picks correct wins food-my favorite kind of reward. Picks aren’t due until tomorrow at 10am but I’m doing this now because I am, well, WORKING at 10am. Justin has devised some genius points system that causes the skin around my skull to almost split because my brain doesn’t understand it. He works for Capital One, so I figure he knows what he’s doing in the whole math/statistics arena.

We are required to pick for all 20-something categories. Some of my picks are based on my actual experiences with the movies or my understanding of the award show trends. The rest will be pulled out of my bottom. So, here we go, here we go now…

1. Actor in a Leading Role: Forest Whitaker-The Last King of Scotland
2. Actor in a Supporting Role: Mark Wahlberg-The Departed
3. Actress in a Leading Role: Hellen Mirren-The Queen
4. Actress in a Supporting Role: Jennifer Hudson-Dreamgirls
5. Animated Feature Film: Cars
6. Art Direction: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest
7. Cinemtography: Children of Men
8. Costume Design: Dreamgirls
9. Directing: The Departed
10. Documentary Feature: An Inconvenient Truth
11. Documentary Short: The Blood of Yingzhou District
12. Film Editing: United 93
13. Foreign Language: Pan’s Labyrinth
14. Makeup: Pan’s Labyrinth
15. Music (Score): Babel
16. Music (Song): Love you I do from Dreamgirls
17. Best Picture: The Departed
18. Short Film (Animated): No Time for Nuts
19. Short Film: (Live Action): Binta and the Great Idea
20. Sound Editing: Blood Diamond
21. Sound Mixing: Dreamgirls
22. Visual Effects: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest
23. Writing (Adapted Screenplay): Notes on a Scandal
24. Writing (Original Screenplay): Little Miss Sunshine

Some of these selections are who I think *should* win and who I think *will* win. I had to put some of the shoulds in there because maybe me putting it out there will help them out. I’m not really concerned about doing well on this poll, though. My contribution to the winner are pigs and a blanket which I love making/eating/eating all of them.

As I said in my most recent post, the dogs’ crates have been moved upstairs into the front office. I was sick of my dining room looking and smelling like an offshoot of the SPCA, so I took action (very unlike the Catrow family) and instigated the upward migration. Ross predicted that Shooter and Zapp would go absolutely insane. The one thing that we are truly consistent with is the command “Get in your crate.” We can say this in any tone, at any volume, at any time of the day, and in they go. We were a little nervous that changing the location of the crates might disrupt this.

Well, moving the crates really separated the men from the boys. Or the smart from the stupid. We’ve always known Zapp to be, shall we say, vapid? It’s pretty clear that Shooter is smart considering he is able to make generalization, such as knowing that ALL remote controls fall on the floor and make loud noises, or anything made of metal will give you a shock. The crate migration just gave us another example.

After moving them upstairs, I gave the usual command, and Shooter went to his corner of the dining room, saw that his crate wasn’t there, and went to go find it. He had been watching me move them, so he trotted up the stairs, into the office, and stood in his crate waiting for me to shut the door. Meanwhile Zapp went to *her* usual corner, walked around in circles and looked at me in utter confusion (while Shooter had been watching me Zapp had spent her time doing headstands on our bed). I enticed her to go upstairs, which she did so with the same enthusiasm that would have come with me presenting her with a steak dinner. But, when I told her to go into the office (where Shooter was still standing in his crate, even though the door was wide open) her body went rigid and she pressed herself against the wall. I didn’t understand. She loves the office! It’s the only part of the house that gets direct sunlight. She will contort herself into the most obscene positions to ensure that every part of her is grazed by a sunbeam. But when *asked* to go in there, she assumed an entire veterinary staff was waiting there to euthanize her.

I gently wrapped my finger around her collar and tried to coax her into the office. You would have thought I was trying to coax her into a cauldron of boiling water. She straightened her front legs, cemented her bottom to the floor and would not move. Finally I had to use the unbeatable “carry her like a sheep” technique to get her in there. Once she saw her crate and the love of her life (Shooter) she went in, but not after gouging every part of my upper body with her tallons.

This routine was repeated several times this weekend (even once at 5:00am during which Ross and I kept yelling at each other, “BE PATIENT WITH HER!!!!”) with the same response. It was my job to get them in their crates this morning, so I set aside an extra 15 minutes in preparation. I blocked off all escape routes, put Shooter in place, and gave the command with a slight wince. She looked at me, wagged her tail, and trotted on in. Consistency my friends, consistency.

I AM GOING TO BE THE BEST PARENT EVER.

Friday: Sat ALL DAY while my kids did their simulation writing test, dealt with bullying drama, stayed at work until 5:30 rearranging seats in the classroom.

Friday night: Had dinner with Tim and Jenna (delicious, amazing, wonderful), went to ChrisFromCanada’s house and yelled at MattWhite a lot, fell a little more in love with Rachel Harms.

Saturday morning: Babysat Remus and enjoyed all the fun that includes.

Saturday afternoon: Went to PharrOut offices for lunch so I could finally meet Scott and Christi’s cutie pie Halle, came home and moved the dog’s crates upstairs, fell asleep watching American Beauty.

Saturday night: Enjoyed a delicious pasta dinner made by Maura, watched 4 hours of Top Chef, realized that the head judge looks way like Cal Ripken, Jr.

Sunday morning: Got up before noon, snuggled.

Sunday afternoon: Went to the gym, opted out of church, watched a lot of MTV, probably fell asleep.

Sunday night: Got the usual Taco Bell Sunday Dinner, watched documentary on Wal-Mart, experienced somewhat of a cleaning fit, off to bed in a bit.

And the thing I love this week is…

Mine are fake so they are not as luxurious as these, but my imitation Dansko’s make my life at work so much easier. Not only do they make me almost as tall as some of my students, but they make the over 15,000 steps I take per day SOOOO comfortable.

Have a great week!

I’m pregnant.

Ha ha, just kidding. Again.

The real, and perhaps even more exciting announcement is: my scale at home was off approx. 4lbs., making me appear to be 4lbs. heavier than I actually am. ‘Tis a happy day in our neighborhood.

Now, I know I was all hating on Chad Lowe last night, but he did say something on Larry King that was pretty good. He pointed to himself and said, “This is the face of addiction.” Was that a public service campaign at some point? Because if it wasn’t, it should be. I think if public figures were to participate in some kind of campaign like that, a lot of people would be freed from the stigma that comes with addiction, eating disorders, etc. I mean, Tom Cruise might dissolve them all with his acid mind-bullets, but I think it might be worth the sacrifice. So, here’s mine:

This is the face of depression.

I call on you to post something similar.

First, let me just say that I love seeing what “relevant” ads show up on my sidebar. For the last few days there have been ones about being a slacker mom, headaches, and fibromyalgia. It’s a party over here!

I’m sure you all were constantly checking back to see what happened when I went to the doctor about my chest issue. Well, I’m pregnant. Just kidding! What the hell would my chest have to do with being pregnant? Anyway, it just turned out to be a pulled muscle(s) afterall. Check out the diagram to see the specific area in question. I have colored it lime green. This is EXACTLY what I look like, btw:

So I got orders to stop lifting weights until everything heals. It will be rough on my body-building career, but, ya know, ya gotta do what the doc says. I did 30 minutes on the treadmill tonight, making sure to keep my entire upper body still. I hated it. But I *did* get to watch Chad Lowe talk to Larry King about how he’s not at ALL resentful of his brother ROB LOWE and his ex-wife HILARY SWANK. Yeah, right, Chad. And the sky isn’t blue, and Heidi Klum isn’t insanely hott, and pigs in a blanket aren’t the best food ever. Get a grip, Rob. Oh, sorry, I meant Former Mr. Swank.

But, on the bright and much less bitchy side, I was out of the doctor’s by 1:30. I came home and boiled a chicken (see previous post) for Mark and then took a much needed nap after getting zero sleep last night. Ross and I had a HUMUNGO fight, but everything is fine now. I think we are both just really exhausted and I’m looking forward to tomorrow evening when neither one of us has anything to do.

I came home from the gym and went into a cleaning frenzy in the kitchen. The smell of chicken is all over my house and it kind of makes me want to throw up. This is why I don’t cook the meat. Or anything. I’m terrified that salmonella is lurking in every corner. Consequently, every corner got scrubbed and rescrubbed with Clorox Hard Surface Cleaner. And then I threw away my rubber gloves.

The Matt and the Maura are supposed to be here this weekend and I feel much excitement in my heart about this. I talked to Stephanie on the ol’ IM tonight. I had been thinking about her all day and POOF! there she was. She makes me miss her and college.

The superintendent comes tomorrow. We all need to make sure we look spiffy and that all chaos is kept to a minimum.

I feel very nauseated. It’s either salmonella or the 18lbs. of Doritos I ate for dinner. Hmmmm.

I must love Mark and Jenni very dearly because I just stuck my hand up a chicken’s ass for them. I don’t touch raw meat, let alone enter its cavities to remove bits. Blech.