Rage and Reflection, this fall on NBC

• I went to high school at EFY ten years ago. Last week was my high reunion and I didn't go, because it took place 1,200 miles away from where I live. I know it's not "cool" to want to go to those things, but I admit I would've liked to have gone, because it would be fun to catch up with randoms, and also I have a pretty awesome life so wouldn't feel sheepish running into people who knew me in the late 90s. I bet it's more fun to catch up with randoms when your update is that you have a kickass life than it would be if your update was that you were a crackwhore or something. (No offense if you're a crackwhore.)
  

• It will come as no surprise to most of you that I hate wooden blocks that spell random stuff. I know, you're probably thinking, "Whoa, hate is a strong word, gurrbonzo." I know. This is why I've used it. I just don't get them. I saw one a while ago that said "B-L-O-O-M." What? Who are you talking to? Am I supposed to bloom? Are you just reminding me that things, in general, bloom? Or "S-U-M-M-E-R." Okay. Yes, that is the current season. Why is that a decoration? I may as well put wood blocks on the piano that say "B-R-E-A-T-H-E" or "A-I-R" or "9-9-%-H-U-M-I-D-I-T-Y." I just don't get it. (It's okay if you have them. We can still be friends. I just want to know, WHYYYYYYYY?????????)

• My toddler and my husband went on a daddy-daughter date tonight and it was freaking adorable enough to melt my cold heart.
  

• Remember how I work with the teenage girls at church? Our stake young women's summer camp theme is "Daughters of a King" and they are doing a bunch of princessy stuff, and each congregation was supposed to choose a name associated with the theme. (For example, one group is "The Princess Brides.") What did my sharp and hilarious girls choose, with no prompting from me? CHESS QUEENS. Because "they're the most powerful piece on the board." Ahh! My heart swells just thinking about it.

• Today I was looking at a couple of different community education classes and found the following gems. Yes, these are actual names of classes offered. HOW WILL I NARROW IT DOWN? "Making Friends With Yourself," "Developing Your Intuition," "Beginning Bridge--The Card Game," and my personal favorite, "Breaking Into Sitcom Writing."
  

closure

Have you been worried about me and my $92 library fine? Well, worry no more! I walked into the library with a kid on each hip and was calm and nice and just asked what my options were, and EIGHT DOLLARS LATER, all is well and my fury has dissipated considerably. Thanks for your commiseration and guidance.

Thanks to a generous relative or two, I've been able to line up a few of the local (hilarious) beehives to play with my kids a couple of mornings a week while I study for the bar. It's ideal because part of the day, I can actually focus, and yet I still get to spend a good chunk of the day hanging out with our kiddos who delight me. And since I'm just in another room, I don't hyperventilate wondering about if the house has burned down or if my baby's flipping out or what have you. Also, I've started talking aloud about law stuff while we play and I mentally review things, and it's leading my two-year-old to do awesome things, e.g., the following exchange which takes place daily:

Me: So, will you tell me about [the exclusionary rule/free exercise clause/procedural due process/whatever], sweetie?

Kid, very thoughtfully: Ummm...zinga, zinga, shrumpha shoobie, blerghy blargy, trickazoom...that's right?

It's especially great because a) she can talk using real words so the nonsense is on purpose, and the "that's right?" at the end is heartbreakingly eager and b) the REAL answers I'm reviewing sound just as nonsensical so it's a sweet form of therapy.

Anyway, the other day was the first day of this babysitting set-up and I feel like a new woman. THREE (almost)uninterrupted hours of study time felt like an absolute luxury and my stress level has decreased three zillion. Yes, I also have chunks of study time when my husband is home, but DAYTIME study time is a great bonus, and it feels so good to realize at 12:30 that the bulk of what was hanging over my head for the day is complete so I can enjoy the fam without one eye on the clock. So this leads me to ask:

1. Did you ever babysit when you were younger? If so, what did they pay you?

2. Where you live, what's the going rate for a 12- or 13-year-old babysitter? (I am asking out of curiosity. In our little town and neighborhood, according to the girls who babysit, they generally get $5ish an hour...is that more or less than other places?)

Additionally, last night I had fried pickles. I'd say about 60/40 delicious and gross.

Two items of business

1. My mom normally resides about 1,200 miles away but she is visiting us! Not only does this delight me, it also makes me feel like I'm on vacation, and there is not a lot cuter than seeing your mom make your toddler laugh so hard she gut-giggles. To borrow the startling but strangely fitting enthusiasm of a girl in church who once told a story ending with the words "Yay God!", I would just like to say, "Yay moms."

2. I have read all of Abraham Verghese's books in the last three weeks and it's kind of of making me want to become a doctor. But I also went through this stage with trucking and flower arranging so maybe it will pass.

uh oh

I recently went through a serious audiobook stage, during which I borrowed "Teacher Man" by Frank McCourt from the local library. An autobiography read by the author (preferably with a thick accent to add some zest) is a treat bc it's like they're telling you their life story one-on-one. I enjoyed it during my to-ing and fro-ing but when the time came to return it...dun dun dun...I realized it was missing a cd. Just one. Out of eight. Gulp. I looked everywhere with no success, and figured I must have put it in another cd case that I had already returned to the library. So I did what any fabulous person would do in this situation: acted natural about it. I just took it back to the library. If they had the cd, then great, and if they didn't, they'd let me know.

Oh, they've let me know. Go ahead and guess the replacement cost.

No, really. Go ahead and guess. It is one cd, though I understand that they'd have to get an entire new audiobook, currently available on amazon for $32.

Do you have your guess?

Is it more or less than NINETY-TWO DOLLARS?

Sigh.

So what's my move? Make a phone call during which I use my angry lawyer voice? Recycle two thousand plastic bottles and/or organize a Fight Gurrbonzo's Moronic Ways 5k to round up the $92 to just pay it and then mutter bitterly whenever I think of Mr. McCourt from this day forward? Order a new copy myself and then pretend the NEW disc 4 is the disc 4 that I lost? WHAT TO DO?