Project Backdoor

When we had our home inspection, the guy said there was one thing that absolutely had to be done to the house. And that was the set of doors on the back of our woodstove room would have to be replaced.

The back of the woodstove room is primarily a wall of glass. It looks awesome and gives you the sense of being in a sunroom sometimes, but it is really worn down and beat. There are four vertical panes - the center two are doors that open into the room while the outer two are fixed and don't open.

The doors are probably 20 years old, and were rather cheap -- single pane glass, not very thermally sound. Really not made for use in this part of the country. The first couple of cold nights in late November really woke us up to the reality that this wall of glass was a heat sink, and it was probably warmer outside on the other side of the glass than it was on the inside.

From these photos, you can see that the bottoms of the door and the door frame outside are trashed. The deck and the house are flush to one another. There isn't a step down. This is often referred to as "California Style" decking, when you just walk straight from inside to deck.

That's great for California, or the desert, but in places where it rains, the water hits the deck and splashes back at the doors and the house and you end up with a lot of water damage. Especially if the roof doesn't have a gutter or a diverter or a really nice long lip to channel water away from the deck. Which our roof does not have.

And that is exactly what was happening here -- the water would hit the deck and splash up. For years and years. The doors were swollen and weak, and Brodie was able to eat the moulding off of the doorframe one day when she was out on the deck hanging out this summer. Combine the poor thermal properties of the doors with the splash back California style decking, and we've got a project. We hired our contractor to come out and figure out all that needed to be done.

We wanted the following:

1) new doors, in the exact same style as what we have but really good quality.
2) deck - gone. We'll decide what to do with the space later. We need to go a step-down and one cannot really step down out of the doors to another deck... there isn't room between the house and the ground to have a step to deck. So we're thinking patio.
3) inside the room, a 20 square foot area of tile where the doors open, because the wide pine flooring in that area is already beat to hell and we're just going to wear it out more with dogs, kids, mud, dogs, mud and kids.

Todd, our contractor, was afraid when he pulled the deck off that the sill under the doors was going to need to be replaced. Luckily, it was in fine condition. The siding all around was shot, and he discovered that up above the doors there is a mysterious water source that he can't pinpoint the location of. When he took the doors off and the siding down, water came flowing towards him from up above...

Just what you'd expect. The minute you start to do one project, another one rears its ugly head. He thinks the area around our chimney for the woodstove may be compromised and leaking so when he is done with this, he'll climb up there and take a look.

So that's where we are. The doors were removed, the deck was removed (see yesterday's entry for that photo) and new doors were put in. They're great -- much better at keeping the room somewhat warm than the old things, where if you placed your hand on the glass it would freeze like Flick's tongue in "A Christmas Story." I double dog dare ya.

The finish work needs to be done, and the flooring inside. Todd should have all that done by next week. He's got three projects going on and the holidays are upon us. I wanted to have this done before Christmas, but I guess I'll be happy to have it done for New Years. And we won't freeze to death in the end. Horray!

Hooray for boobies

In addition to discovering that when I cough very hard I pee my pants, turning 40 has revealed yet another joy to me. My doctor sent me in for my very first mammogram. Horray!

I had a physical in May, and he said "Oh! I notice in six months you turn 40! How cool is that! Guess what I'm getting you? A referral! For a mammogram! You'll thank me later." Groaning, I took the referral slip from him.

"Don't complain. When I turned 40 someone stuck their finger up my butt, so it could be worse. You could be a guy."

Nice. Thanks Doc. You're funny.

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Six months passed and I totally forgot that I had an appointment until a letter came in the mail on Monday reminding me not to drink caffeine and to not wear any deodorant because it will make weird shadows on the x-rays and I'll have to come in for a mulligan. Bleah.

Un-caffeinated and un-deodorized, I made it to the hospital. I was the first person in the waiting room, and about 10 people came in after me. Nine of them were called in before me, which had me irritated and questioning what the deal was. I don't know why they all got to go first.

Perhaps they were all there for doctors appointments to discuss biopsies and cancer, mastecotmies and treatments. There was a woman there who was undergoing radiation and chemo for breast cancer. She came up to the reception and gave her birthdate and I overheard that she was two years younger than I am.

She had a lot of make up on, and looked as if she's been going to a fake & bake to get a glorious tan. She smelled of cigarettes. Which makes me think that just because she is two years younger than I that she had made a lot of prior bad life choices (and continues to probably do so).

I felt her life choices put her in a more at-risk league than I may be. I felt for her, but also had to sit and wonder (not judge, just wonder, mind you. There is a huge difference) what she was thinking. One could say the same thing sitting across from me, noticing how heavy I am when they are a size 2. I guess we're all in the same league after all.

I finally got called in (a half hour later than my appointment) got undressed and johnnied up, and went into the room. The tech looked at me and realized she could use the tiny squisher panel, not the huge heavy-duty squisher panel. That made me feel pretty under-endowed. But somewhat relieved.

Horray for small boobies!

She set me up and was very calming and reassuring even though I didn't need to be calmed and reassured. I knew that what I was going through was something of a rite of passage, a mandatory act for women crossing my age threshold. I stood there holding my breath while listening to the x-ray machine make its buzzing noises thankful that I lived somewhere that this kind of screening is very readily available to people, and thankful that my joking-assed doctor sent me in. I held my breath and said little prayers for anyone going through cancer treatments, anyone getting a call-back from a bad or questionable scan.

I thanked God for my 40 year old tiny boobies and finished up after being squished 8 times (4 on each side. Horray!) and went to work.

I know yesterday was World AIDS day, but my thoughts were with the pink ribbon clan instead.

One Pound

Some of you know that I've been once again attempting to lose weight. I dropped about 13 pounds and got stuck. I always get stuck. Can't get past a certain amount. And it pisses me off. I strayed far and wide away from the diet this week due to thanksgiving. I ate like a gluttonous pig. And I gained not 15 pounds like I'd thought I had. Just one. Now. We're back on the wagon, trying to drop that one plus another five before Christmas, so we can stray wildly again.

Wish me luck.

I'm never good with diets. I get bored of the food and long to eat stuff that makes my taste buds dance with joy.

I have until September to drop some weight. I don't want to be a hugely fat cow for my sister's wedding. I will be fat, for sure -- just don't want to be the fattest I've ever been in my life.

I enjoyed having some time off from the office and things here were good, if not uneventful. Our turkey was done a full hour before we thought it would be done on Thursday afternoon so we found ourselves scrambling to get all the sides and fixin' action ready. Geoff peeled all the potatoes, and then mashed them for me. For the first time ever he was the biggest help in the kitchen I could have ever asked for. The turkey was and is huge. We still have more than half of it and have a bag of turkey in the fridge for sandwiches. I'm officially sick of Turkey.

Doug will probably make a huge turkey soup this week and we'll get rid of it in that format. That is easy to make, easy to freeze in smaller batches, and easy to enjoy when one realizes one needed to go to the grocery store three days ago in order to have something for dinner.

Friday found Amy coming over for a visit, and we played with dogs who ran like freaks. On Saturday Tanager came to visit and she brought us a wreath she had made. We need to hang it on the door. Geoff was very confused as to why any Christmas decorating was happening already, but then got incredibly excited to realize that ... Christmas decorating time is here!

I'm not ready for that either.

Saturday we also went out and bought a 50 dollar oriental rug knock-off from Building 19 for our upstairs (here) office). The chair we have was dragging across the hardwood floor, and when that happened, anyone sitting downstairs felt the legs of the chair rake through their brains. So that had to end. And it did. The rug fits nicely and really quiets things down. I'm sad we didn't buy a bigger one to fill the entire room and really cut down on the noise, but this is good.

Sunday was filled with football. The Steelers sucked and the Pats rose to the ocassion. All told, that was the game of the week for me.

And now it's over and we're back to work. The kids are off and I need to get myself ready to go to the office.

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I'm wondering what my commute will be like in a few short minutes what with every soul back to the grind. Last week on the whole the ride in and home was light and fluffy. Oh to have it be that way all the time.

I'm ahead of schedule at work right now, which is always a good feeling. But it is messing with my head knowing that I am scheduling content for the screens for the week of December 10th. And by the end of this week I will be scheduling content for December 16th. Additionally freaky is that I need to keep in mind that I am expiring content for dates in 2007. I'm not ready for 2007.

So not ready. Not sure how you feel about it but. Gah.

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I do need to say before I sign off that I'm incredibly proud of Geoff. He spent the entire weekend reading. He has a book report due on December 4th, and the way they set it up for the kids he's know about this book report since October 15th. They give them all the time in the world to pick a book and begin reading it. Geoff picked six different books and started them, and decided that he didn't like them. He went through our book collection and found "Something Wicked This Way Comes," a book I referenced not too long ago here as a book I have read more than once. He liked the cover, and when I told him what the story entailed he settled in to reading it.

Flash forward and Geoff is about 19 pages into the book and not reading at all. He's avoiding, he's finding other things to keep himself busy. He "did" his book report based on the 19 pages he'd read and told me he was done and all set. I had to set him straight. He had to finish the book.

So this weekend, he got up to page 38 by Saturday evening. Sunday morning he woke up, ate breakfast and started reading again.

He's on page 120, out of 212, and I think if he keeps his pace he can finish the book by the end of the week, and at least do the artwork required for the project before the weekend.

He set the bar high for himself and I didn't stop him. It is not an easy book. He is enjoying it, and when I ask him to summarize what has happened so far he's got a grip on the plot and characters. The meaning of the book though, he's probably not going to get. But. He'll be able to complete the project by the deadline and damn if that doesn't just make me smile.

So -- way to go Geoff. Keep up the good reading work, keep up the focus, keep up the pace. You can do it.

Gobbles

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all. Gobbles the turkey joins me in the chorus of thanks and praise. Because it is meet and right so to do.

It is 8:30am. Doug and I both woke up fairly early... I'd like to still be sleeping but there were things to do. Our turkey takes about 6-8 hours to cook so we needed to get that bad boy in the stove. A fire needed to be started. Dogs needed to be fed. Coffee needed to be brewed. And now we're settling in for the long wait. At about 2pm I will make our potatoes and our veg, get the pies out, have Geoff set the table, and begin the hour of chaos right before we eat.

Perhaps I will go back to bed.

Geoff and I are going to make cranberry sauce and whipped cream. Call me Martha Effin' Stewart and I'll push you down a flight of stairs. I just decided since he's so interested lately in the process of cooking and making meals that I ought to involve him and these were the two easiest ways. He made my dinner on Monday night (french bread pizzas, and yes -- they were wonderful) and calls himself the chef of the house.

Doug calls him Cheffrey and he gets really REALLY mad. I wish he'd take pride in being called Cheffrey and get the play on words but whatever. He's a pill.

I am finally feeling over my cold enough to do things like clean. All I've managed to do for the last week is laundry and load the dishwasher. There are dust bunnies big enough to attack our guinea pig, and they must be stopped before they are big enough to attack Brodie.

Our bathroom is a pigsty and needs top to bottom scrubbed at this point, so that has to get done. I will force my daughter to clean this room and sweep. Geoff has already cleared the dining table and will set it for us. He wants to use our incredibly wonderful Noritake China but I am loathe to allow him to come near it. I am hoping today will be a thanksgiving of cleanliness, in addition to turkey and football.

We opted to stay home by ourselves this year. I had invited my mom and dad up, but my mom can't see to drive at night which means we would have to be eating by 11am in order for her to get out of here in the light. I am glad they're not coming, not because I don't love them or anything but because the weather is supposed to turn piss poor later and I don't relish the idea of her driving with even more limited visibility. Not sure what they decided they'd do for the holiday, but they've got people to be with down there. We got invited to Chris and Laurie's house in Amherst, but would have to spend the night and I didn't want to trek out there with the three dogs and make a nuisance of myself with my family.

It's sometimes easier to just stay in.

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In other news, folks around the country may be aware that yesterday morning at about 2:45 am an ink manufacturing facility in Danvers MA exploded and took half the neighborhood with it. Danvers is about 20 miles south of us down the coast. It is where Doug works most of the time (his job is split between Danvers and Lowell, so he drives to both locations daily). And it is a town en route to my office that sometimes I drive through depending on how I want to go to work or come home on any given day.

I was fast asleep and heard what sounded like a car crash, right outside my bedroom window. My dogs woke up and went insane, running around barking into the dark. I pulled up the shade, and there wasn't anything there. I went down to the kitchen to see if, perhaps, Gonzo had pulled over our trash. But there was no sign of chaos in the house.

Again, I looked outside only to see the quiet night. No car crash, no inferno, no sign of chaos. Nothing. Confused, I went back to bed.

Yesterday when Doug got up he put on the radio and we heard news of the explosion. We turned on the TV and saw the live shots of the fire and the devastation. I was hard to believe. They were saying the people in New Hampshire and Maine heard the blast, and it was then that I realized what had woken me and the dogs up out of our sleep was indeed the blast. And the quiet still night here in our northern little town was all I saw out the window because the plant was 20 miles away.

Kind of freaky.

The amazing thing is no one was killed. The neighborhood around the plant is densely populated. People were in bed, and they were injured by flying bureaus and glass and their ceilings caving in on them. But no one died. No one was eviscerated. No one decapitated. Material loss, yes. Scars and stitches, yes. When you look at the photos of the scene, you can't really believe there weren't dozens lost. And that's amazing to me. Totally amazing.

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In yet other news, two friends lost dear loved ones this week. My sister's best friend lost her mom after a very brief time with cancer. I can't say a battle with cancer, because from the time she received the diagnosis to the day of her death it was just a few weeks.

That fast, that swift, that scary. Like a chemical plant blowing up in your backyard. Only this time someone died. My sister flew down to say goodbye and thought in a few weeks that she'd be flying back for the funeral. She arrived Friday night and Mary Lou passed on Monday, while Linda was there.

A flickr friend lost his sister this week after she did wage a long battle with Pick's disease. He is devastated, and I feel deeply for him. I couldn't imagine losing my sister, and I do not relish the fact that we will, over the next couple of decades, most likely face some horrible diseases or trials and tribulations. I'm glad that I have her to fight with me though. Having someone to care for, or to care for you, in that manner is an amazing thing. Something to be thankful for.

So today, I am thankful for Mary Lou and Leslie, for the lives they touched and the legacy they both leave. I'm thankful that in their death they were surrounded by people who loved them. I am thankful that even though the sudden departure leaves such amazing pain that there is a wealth of happiness in memory that will help all their friends and loved ones get through the process.

My sister put the lyrics to Death Cab for Cutie's "What Sarah Said" up in her journal entry. Here's a link to it. And there are so many lines in that song that are just amazing.

Love is watching someone die.
So who's gonna watch you die?
Who's gonna watch you die?

I'm sorry they had to watch someone die. I'm not sorry that it was love.

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Well, I had best get my house-cleaning ass out of this chair and get a move on.

Happy day to you all, in all you do, whether with family or alone; whether at a restaurant or in a house. Be thankful for the little things and the happy moments in your life. And be safe. Be well. Be good.

40

Yesterday was my birthday. I am now 40 years of age. Long time readers know that for the last five years this is not a really thrilling time for me. I don't make a big deal out of birthdays. I like it simple. I like it personal. I like a little present here and there. I like to maybe have dinner and a movie. In 2001, I was pissed at Doug because he didn't buy me BNL tickets so I ended up buying them for myself and taking him (my concert buddy was still a few years shy of really being a good date for rock shows. That Jessica... little did I know in 2001 she'd turn into my co-conspiritor with all things Barenaked...) 2001's birthday turned out to be one of the more memorable and fun ones in many years, and I look back on it with great fondness. (follow that link up there if you want the full details of a BNL concert and a meteor show that could not be beat).

In 2002 we bought a truck for my birthday. Ole Quimby was quite the good friend until just a couple of months ago when we traded him in on the Wasabi Mobile.

2003 and 2004 I was blogging on journalspace and have to go and pull out my archives and put them up in here so everything is in one place. We did go to Maine to Aaron and Michelle's in 2004. They bought me a humongous cake from Sam's Club that was big enough to feed 20. A good time that weekend was had by all... I think we drove home with it between my feet. Good times, gooooood times.

In 2005 Jess starred as Grandma in the school play and that was a damn good time. It was a good birthday gift to see my daughter starring in a play. Lots of fun.

And this year, I got a bad cold for my birthday. A really, really wonderfully, awesomely wicked bad cold. So bad that I cough and pee my pants (file THAT under TMI) and am hawking up large chunks of matter and lung. I've been miserable for the better part of a week. I spent a whole day in bed last Tuesday. This is a cold that wants to be bronchitis, or some kind of -itis, but it isn't quite -itisy enough and my doctor says I need to ride it out. My body wants to put me into a hospital, and get an IV and a good night's sleep on lots of drugs and painkillers. But I know it isn't that bad, and my doctor is right, and I need to ride this out.

Several weeks ago I had told Doug I wanted a party for my birthday. He was a jerk and he didn't organize one. In hindsight, it's a good thing because I don't think I would have been well and happy enough to enjoy a party. Good thing he's a slacker (see 2001 for BNL tickets issue). So Doug, it turns out, did the right thing by doing nothing.

Friday afternoon Amy brought me a present. We have a shared adoration of reading and of Anthony Bourdain, so she hooked me up with one of his missives. And a little journal for books that I read, into which I will make a first entry of the Bourdain book as soon as I start reading it. I got home from work that night and Doug insisted we go out for chinese and have scorpion bowls. So we did. They were good, and dinner was tasty.

We ended up on Saturday going up to Maine to the Hydes, where strangely enough I've spent 3 of my last 6 birthdays. Only this time, we helped them move house. The Hydeaway is no more, and they are now in a huge house (there are 5 kids and a grandma in addition to Wayne and Marcia) specially built by Wayne for the family. Seven bedrooms, a master bedroom suite that is bigger than my entire second floor. A gorgeous wooded lot. It is a great place. I'm incredibly happy for them and hope they settle in to happiness there. I will miss the Hydeaway though, where the 2001 birthday weekend was spent looking at the Leonid Meteor showers out in the yard in sleeping bags. After a Barenaked Ladies concert.

I got to see Laurie one of my college roommates (the link takes you to 2002 when I wrote a "My Life As Written By Others" entry about her and Bonnie, my other roomie). It reminded me that in 1984 I met her and have loved her ever since, and I hate that we don't spend more than one day together each year. Something must change when it comes to that. I had a tremendously good time with her, joking around about our kids, laughing about how her daughter will be driving this spring (she was born on my wedding day, so her parents missed out on the wedding of the 90s). We made good use of ourselves and moved a lot of furniture and boxes and unpacked things and played with small children. And it makes me miss her more when I do get that day or two with her each year.

On my actual birthday (yesterday) Geoff made me breakfast in bed. I got raisin toast, an apple, and a huge glass of ice water. I slept until Noon after I ate my breakfast. Then, I watched the Steelers eek out a win by the skin of my own teeth while I coughed another lung out on the couch. It was the best gift (other than the raisin toast) that I got all day. Then we went to Newburyport to have dinner at The Black Cow. It was delicious and the death by chocolate dessert that I got was like chocolate anti-matter. It ate my soul. And I loved it.

Today at work we all went out to lunch and it was a good time but I'm still in an "I am so sick" funk that I felt like a lump instead of the birthday girl. Courtney made me carrot cake, and it kicked ass, and I got to bring the other half of it home to my very happy family.

At 5:30 my cellphone rang, and it was Geoff telling me that he had made me dinner, and it was ready to go in the oven. He needed to know what time I would get home so he could time putting it in. And then he told me about a man on the news who escaped from a police car and a woman helped to re-apprehend him, and he thought that was awesome.

My son made me dinner. That made me smile.

I stopped and bought monkey wine. And when I got home, Doug had a dozen roses waiting for me, and they're lovely and nice. So he did get me something but only after I groused at him.

Overall, this entire experience was kind of a washout, and I pine for 2001 when I had bnl and Maine and meteors.

This year, I was kind of pissy that I didn't get a gift from my husband or daughter on my birthday. I was sick, and hate being sick. I was cranky because turning 40 doesn't happen every day and damnit if I wanted to just feel valued and loved for one birthday and have something to unwrap other than "love" and "appreciation." I think I made my disappointment known, but my husband now feels I'm some sort of gold-digging bitch but whatever. I wanted a gift, some memento of something to mark my value.

Either that, or I just wanted someone else to scrub the bathroom and sink, both of which I have refused to touch just to see if someone else will breakdown and do it. No one has yet.

Anyway. 40 isn't any different than 39 or 38 or 9 or 2 when it really comes down to it. It's another day on the calendar. But it comes with going off my diet and My Girl C making me a kick ass carrot cake in the office today. Hells yeah.

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I sound down, but I'm not really -- I'm more... resigned and over it. Amy's gift meant a lot, and the ecards I got from Tess and the cool librarian were awesome. And the love on the BNL and Guster boards really cracked me up.

All told, I think that once I get over this -itis I'll feel much better about things and maybe not be such a piss pot when all is said and done. In the meantime, there is a bottle of monkey wine downstairs with my name on it. And I'm off to enjoy it.

Papio to you, too!

Detention Breakfast Disorder

Our detention liberation plans didn't pan out as well as we'd hoped, but we still had a great time. We were headed over to buy a poster so I could make a sign when Conourtney's mom called me to tell me the teacher let them out 1/2 hour early. Well that just screws EVERYthing up, stupid teacher. Feh.

Bailing on the poster idea, we drove straight to the school and found Conourt sitting outside the building with one other kid. We drove up, Jess, Geoff and I, hooting and hollering and it confused her and made her look at us funny (not to mention the other kid). Then I explained how I was sorry that it was my fault that she got detention and I was making it up to her by taking her out to breakfast.

We headed the next town over to a little diner and had a post-detention breakfast that could not be beat. I think Courtney thinks I'm insane but she appreciates it. And in the end, that is what I wanted.

Well, this is just a short note to let you know we went and did it, and it was appreciated even if it wasn't the Rock Spectacle that I wanted it to be. Sometimes, the lower keyed celebration is just as meaningful as the over the top freakfest.

This afternoon we are heading down to see my parents. It's been a while since we've been for a visit so Doug felt one was due. I gotta get the family organized and out the door. No one seems willing to light a fire under their butts so I better assist.

More later.

Random thoughts upon return home

"Where does the heart reside if not where I lay my head?
I could run but I'm petrified and choose this instead
Again, and again..."
-Barenaked Ladies "Home"

I love when I come home and there is already a fire going and dinner is in the oven. Especially when I'm home excessively late and I know I don't have the heart and spirit to make much of an effort. If I had to make dinner tonight it would be:

"Here, kids, I heated up some oatmeal and sprinkled it with Avatar fruit snacks for ya. And for me? A vodka tonic, thank you. Doug -- you can figure things out on your own. Enjoy."

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I stopped and bought the biggest bag of dog food I could carry on my head this evening (for the record, 50 pounds is my limit) and a ton of new toys for the dogs. I bought a ball that looked like fun, and within three minutes of it being in my house Gonzo had chewed it entirely to bits.

Surprised, I picked up the label to learn "this is an interactive play ball made of soft vinyl... not a chew toy."

Well, it wasn't very interactive because all I did was throw it to him and he caught it and bit it in half. Chomp. Shred. Destroy. No interaction for human and canine to enjoy together.

Maybe next time I'll just take five dollars and 99 cents into the bathroom with me and wipe my butt with it. It would be a far more effective use of the cash.

I bought them each a hedgehog, and didn't realize that when it is bitten down upon it makes a very distinct FART noise. No squeek from this bad boy, but a really powerful poot.

This may have to be something that gets recorded. It's cracking me up beyond imagination.

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Before I left for work this morning I checked the discussion boards I frequent (BNL and guster related) and someone had shared this video of BNL singing the (US) National Anthem at a hockey game the other night.

It made my day. I like the arrangement and love Steve's voice. For a bunch of Canadian guys, they do my country's song well.

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I really hate when I leave work in the morning and I have forgotten one of my 9,001 jars of Carmex. I kick myself all day and debate whether or not I should just get up and run to CVS and get another. But I already HAVE 9,001 containers, and I don't need 9,002, fer chrissakes. So I struggle through the day, and rush home and grab some sweet relief.

I love you, Carmex.

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Anyway. I was going to write some other stuff, some more random observations... like about elections and stuff. But it was Cut In Front Of Christine's Car day today so I'm a bit rattled and just want to put on my pyjamas and go eat my fish dinner... So I guess that is it for tonight. Gonna curl up with my Carmex by the fire and watch Monday Night Football. Yay!

Not Oprah! No, Nope-rah! BNL Concert Review Agannis Arena, Boston University

Howdy everyone. I think I love my new layout for the month of November. Apologies to those of you who couldn't care less about BNL, but heck -- my pictures rocked almost as much as they did on October 23 and November 1, so I figured I'd immortalize them in banner and navigation form. Call it a tribute. Call it inspiration. Call it just a new month and a new look. But so far it is one of my favorites.

The title will only make sense to those who were there at Agganis Arena on November 1st. It's a great inside joke, and one I've been singing since Wednesday. Can't get it out of my head. That and Ed's "sweet cheeks" bit with the piece of sugar glass down his pants. BNL. That's some quality funny stuff, yo.

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So here are the big moments that I didn't have time to write about all week.

November 1 - Barenaked Ladies at the Agganis Arena, Boston University
The second of my two concerts on this tour was great. As if anything else could be expected. No one got a detention from school the next day, and a great time was had by all.

We suddenly found ourselves with two extra tickets again the Monday before the show. The person who bought them from us had an emergency and couldn't go. So I did some quick thinking on Boston peeps and immediately contacted Ms. Cynical Life o Shelley, who gladly accepted. And Magickcat had been looking for a ticket all week, so I knew I had to hook a sistah up.

Michelle from Maine had come down to spend a few days with us, including Halloween, and including the show. This was her very first show and she almost died when she saw where our tickets were. She accidentally sat in the fifth row thinking, "Wow. These are great seats!" And then she realized that she was in the wrong row and needed to move up some.

Mrs. The Kayla and Kay came, and they brought one of their neighbors and Jess sat with them. I had a batch of third row seats and a batch of 10th row seats. It got a little complicated and I ended up sticking Mrs. The Kayla with the 10th row seats, and she took the girls. She didn't want to take the "strangers" and I didn't want to give up my third row... so we ended up sitting apart.

At one point I walked back to where they were sitting to give Jess my ticket so she could go up front. She didn't want to -- she was having too much fun with Mrs. The Kayla. I was shocked... but I guess the third row simply can't compete with the funness that is Mrs. The Kayla. I think Kayla got nauseous from the lights this time around. Jess told me she had to sit for most of the show and keep her eyes closed. Mrs. The Kayla rushed out with her at the end. I am wondering how many more rock shows she'll be able to go to with her condition. I think next time we don't buy 8 tickets and we just go the four of us. We shall see.

The set list was mindblowing. They have been moving through with a formula of sorts, and during the middle of the show they play one song from every album they've released. So we were treated to some interesting tunes that I've not heard done live. And they even bluegrassed it up hardcore by throwing in Fox on the Run, which was just astounding with the five part harmony and Ed just sounding so perfectly Grand Ole Opry there. Great stuff. Jim played his huge bass solo and I was the big fat goy singing along to Hava Nagila in the middle of the song, much to the laughter of the guy in front of me. Hava, na ra na na! Yes.

We brought some glowsticks and I shared them with my girls in my row, and the girls behind me. After the show we were going to stalk the band but Jess had to be up at 6:30 for school and I just didn't want to torture her. So we came home. It was a good thing we left ... at about midnight... because they didn't come out until about 1:30am.

The life of a rockstar. Pfth.

After the show I ran into an old co-worker from the CMGI days, and she and I were both like "I know you, from some...where... hmmmm" and it finally came together for both of us and it was a relief to get that figured out. We got to hang out with Abbey and that was nice because we hadn't had time at Manchester or before this show.

All told, a wicked good time. And now I'm incredibly sad I'm not going to NYC for any of the shows. Sadness.

My flickr set is here.

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Jess' Play, Nov 2 - 4
The high school theatre troupe is running David and Lisa, a stage performance of a film from 1962 or so.

It follows a teenaged boy named David who is experiencing nightmares about clocks and death and who is afraid of being touched. His parents send him to a residential school, hoping he can be cured. He is very angry, hates his overbearing mother and absentee father, and obviously has a pantload of rage issues. He befrends a schizophrenic girl named Lisa (when she is verbal) or Muriel (when she is not). Lisa rhymes to communicate, and he quickly figures out that he can rhyme along with her and they can talk. The play is at times incredibly intense, and at times incredibly funny. The residents of the school are mostly kids who nowadays would NEVER be sent away for treatment. Only Lisa/Muriel is the kind of kid who would be sent to a residential facility anymore. David's issues could all be handled through medication and therapy. Carlos is just a punk and there is no need to send him to a residential school... he's like any other random bully. There is a depressed girl, a flirty girl, and a girl with an eating disorder.

That's pretty much my daughter's 9th grade class right there.

Anyway -- the cast did a spectacular job. David and Lisa were both perfectly cast, although I found the character of Lisa very annoying at first. And David's rage issues were not explained up front so he just came out screaming and loud and it was kind of hard, but the pacing of the performance and the unfolding of the characters really worked well.

And my pictures came out really good. The flickr set is here.

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Halloween 2006
Our cub scout pack had a huge Halloween party on Saturday night in the middle of the rain and storm. At about 4:30 it ocurred to me that Geoff didn't have a costume. Yet another Halloween where Mom wasn't focued on heading to a store to make a purchase of some sort of ninja get up.

So I throw the kids in the car, and we truck it over to the party store. Geoff finds exactly what he wants and Jess finds a nerd get up and a jester hat. I ended up wearing the jester hat and she ended up attending the party with us.

!!!!

Yes she did. The girl who wants nothing to do with "jerk scouts" or "nerd scouts" came to the party. And she had a freaking BLAST. She danced with nerd scouts, enjoyed the haunted house (two of her classmates were characters in the haunted house and she was all like... "Dude, I could have done this!" Yes, you could have when I asked you if you wanted to participate and your answer was something other than "Meh..." Indeed you could have).

So the costumes were in hand, Tuesday came and Michelle did our candy shopping and ready getting for us (God, thank you Michelle). She and Jess stayed hom and handed out sweets and Doug, Geoff and I went trick or treating.

I met Satan on the side of the road, but didn't sell him my soul. And a good time was had by all. Geoff got cranky and tired and Doug got frustrated with him that he didn't want to go to 1000 houses the way he did when he was a kid. Geoff got what he wanted and came home exhausted and went to bed.

All the candy has been eaten.

Flickr pictures are here.

Set List, November 1, 2006 Agganis Arena, Boston

Wind It Up
Old Apartment
Sound of Your Voice
Grade 9
Alternative Girlfriend
I Live With It Every Day
Light Up My Room
Go Home
Shopping
Take It Back
Down To Earth

Life, In A Nutshell (acoustic)
Crazy (acoustic)
Fox On The Run (acoustic)

Too Little Too Late
Maybe You're Right
Angry People
Pinch Me
Wrap Your Arms Around Me
It’s All Been Done
One Week
Brian Wilson
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Easy
Get In Line
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If I Had $1,000,000

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Finally...

Because I know some of you are dying for an update, there is no new news on the Conourtney Detention Front. It is still scheduled for November 11th. And I'm still going to get everyone together and do the jailbreak thing. That will be a week from today. I hope I don't have another couple of weeks that eat my life, or my enthusiasm for the project may wane a bit. I know once we get in there the day of the jailbreak it'll be all fun and good, but right now I'm just kind of exhausted.

And again finally ...

Jess had gone to see the Beelzebubs at the high school last week and I stayed home with Geoff. The Bubs did an arrangement of Guster's Ruby Falls, which is an 8 minute epic of sorts. Jess just about had a massive stroke when the song started.

She and I had been talking about Guster covers by a cappella collegiate groups. There are discussion boards that say "Enough with the Guster already!" But the Bubs picked quite an ambitious song, and made a nice arrangement out of it. She said they left a lot of the last 3 minutes out, but it was great and blew her mind.

Adam Gardner would be proud.

And I guess that's it. Geoff wants lunch so I have to get to the store, and there is a lot to do this afternoon. More later!

Detention Postponed

Because I know for a fact all y'all are waiting with baited breath for the detention patrol, I thought I'd give you an update tonight.

I talked to Conourtney's mom, and they got a letter stating that her detention is scheduled for 11/11 at 7:30 am. Good thing I talked to her to run this entire plan past her, otherwise I'd be out there in a huge rainstorm by my sorry assed self tomorrow morning at 9:30, and that would be embarassing to say the absolute least.

So we have to wait 2 weeks to do the detention-fest. Now, I wonder if teachers get paid time and a half to proctor a detention on a federal holiday. Even if it is on a Saturday (for those unaware, because you're maybe Canadian or Australian, that's Veteran's Day in the US).

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Conourtney's mom said she thinks that they'll throw me out of the school if I even TRY to go sit in detention with her daughter. "You can try it, but I bet you get in more trouble than you can ever imagine knowing these people..."

She's probably right, having had a lot of experience on the high school level with her son. So I'll heed her advice and not show up with a copy of whatever book I'm currently reading in order to plant ass in a seat for 2 hours.

But she loves the welcoming committee party idea and told me she thinks I've officially lost my mind. She said this while laughing at me. Hard. She told me that I do not need to feel responsible for this. But saying it to me and trying to reassure me will not make that little white hot burning coil in the back of my brain go away.

I told her that I do feel guilty, and want to make things right by the kid, and if I can do it in a way that is both socially humiliating AND entertaining at the same time, hells yeah people. I'm there.

Right now, it looks like Conourtney's mom will join us, as will Mrs. The Kayla, and the girls will all be present and we'll welcome her out of her sentence with signs, banners, balloons, wearing prison jumpsuits (heck, it's halloween time, I bet I can find some on after halloween sale!) and we'll make balls & chains out of styrofoam material.

It'll be a freakin' blast and a half I tell you what.

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In other news, I have a contractor coming at 8am to look at our back doors off the woodstove room. They are a bona fide heat-sink, and that room is negative eighty on most mornings when the rest of the house is toasty warm .

In fact, I think I need to call a plumber or heating dude because the downstairs rooms which we rarely use are about 80 degrees, while upstairs we're awfully chilly at night. Downstairs front is supposed to be on its own zone, and upstairs bedrooms are on their own zone. I think the zones are in the twilight location, because they sure aren't working as expected or desired.

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Geoff came down with a fever on Wednesday and they sent him home from school. He was droopy and sweaty and miserable. And you want to know something sad? He's a pleasure to have around when he isn't feeling good.

Geoff can be ornery or just generally unpleasant most evenings. On Wednesday after I picked him up he politely asked me for tea, a hot fire in the woodstove, and cartoons. Then, he asked me to come join him on the couch and cuddle under the blankets.

It is incredibly sad that I love my son most when he is not feeling his best.

He stayed home with Daddy on Thursday and the two of them watched a lot of cartoons, a lot of Discovery Channel ("I saw this cathedral episode with Mom. A guy has to dive under to put cement under the cathedral so it will stop falling.") and he seemed quite on the mend yesterday and the fever broke so we sent him to school today. Well, it's back. He put himself to bed at about 8 with a temp of 100.6 or so.

I need to go check on him. Wait here.

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Jess went to see the Tufts University Beelzebubs tonight. I stayed home because Geoff was not feeling well and Doug wasn't home yet -- and I knew trying to take Geoff could either result in him getting very upset and bored or him being cuddly and sleepy. I didn't want to risk the former. So we stayed in. I'm kicking myself hard for not going. Oh well. Some other time.

They did a very ambitious Guster song -- Ruby Falls -- off of the latest album. They shortened it greatly, but she had an "OH MY GOD!" moment while sitting there, plotzing in her seat while people around her were like "Huh?"

She couldn't wait to get home to tell me. Adam Gardner would be proud of them for taking on the arrangement.

Anyway -- I am off to bed. The boy is okay and sleeping. Jess wants the PC. Doug is watching many a zombie movie on some American Classic Movie channel. He's going to work tomorrow, making up the time he missed staying home with Geoff on Thursday. More later.

Detention! Breakfast Club is a reality this Saturday

Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain...
...and an athlete
...and a basket case
...a princess
And a criminal
Does that answer your question?... Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.

You are going to love this. I promise.

After the concert, I brought Jess' friend Courtney home here to sleep over, with the assurance that I would get the girls to school... rather than have her come in late and wake everyone in her house up. I figured it would just be easier if she was here.

They might be a little late but hey, they'd get there. I'm a responsible adult.

Jess managed to get up and get out to the bus at 6:55am. She didn't wake up Courtney, who was asleep here on our futon in the study. I woke up at 7:30 about 1/2 hour after I had intended. I finished getting Geoff ready for school. Doug left for work. Over coffee at 7:50 I told Courtney, "Let's go as soon as Geoff's bus comes, and I'll go inside and explain why you are late."

Honesty. It's the best and most beautiful policy, right?

We went to school at 8:15. We walked into the office and I explained to the secretary that Courtney slept at my house, and that I wasn't aware that she was still asleep and had missed the bus. So I am fully responsible for her being late, and I'm sorry.

Well.

Courtney was pulled into an administrator's office where they informed her that she had a detention for an unexcused absence, that my reason wasn't valid, and she would have to serve a 2 hour detention on Saturday Morning from 7:30am to 9:30am.

Whafuh? Are you kidding me?

She missed an entire period. She was quite late. But. I could have written her a note that said "Courtney had a dentist appointment and that's why she's late. Love Courtney's mom." Or, I could have had Courtney's mom in on the ruse.

Or, I could have called her in sick and she could have missed an entire day of school. But I didn't. I told the truth. And the truth does not set you free if you are in 9th grade. Oh hell no. It does not.

While we were pulling into the parking lot, I noticed about 10 kids coming in late, at the same time. I wonder how many of them will be serving detention, or if each of them had a little white slip of paper with a big fat lie written on it.

A big fat lie that teaches them that honesty isn't the best policy, that fibbing will get you out of anything. I doubt highly that they call every dentist, every doctor, every ophthalmologist in the region to find out "Was Billy in for an appointment this morning?" to verify the notes.

I thought my honesty in saying that I was responsible would be sufficient. But I was wrong. And now she's got detention.

I guess I'm just gullible beyond all imagination. God.

Her mother was pissed, not at me but at the school. She had a huge argument with the person who gave her the detention and he tried to pull counter arguments on her that I can't even outline here because they'd make your eyes bleed. It ends up that Mrs. Courtney's mom didn't win the argument and now she's got to serve detention. Failure to show up on time will result in her being suspended for a week.

So here is where I am ... I feel completely culpable and totally shitty. Part of me wants to call this guy and say "Sorry - I didn't realize that the punishment was going to be a hair shy of full disembowlment for the kid, why don't you cut her some slack because it isn't her fault it it TOTALLY MINE." I won't get anywhere though. It's like dealing with Ed Rooney on Ferris Buehler, or Mr. Vernon on the Breakfast Club. They're right. Everyone. Else. Is. Wrong.

Why Jess didn't even try to wake her up and have her take the bus is beyond me... but it is what it is.

And I feel totally crappy. Totally. Totally. Totally.

So she'll go in on Saturday to the breakfast club, and I am honestly thinking of doing the following:

a) Going in and serving it with her. Sitting by her side. Being right there. And you let them try and throw my ass out. I am more responsible for this than she is. There is no reason why she should take the entire punishment alone.

or

b) Showing up at 9:30 with signs and balloons. "Congratulations on your release from Prison Courtney!!!" And have a cheering section of my kids, the Kaylas, anyone else who wants to come with, and we'll all go out for Super Fatty Breakfast afterwards. Maybe we'll all wear orange prison jumpsuits and balls & chains. I think that would be a freaking riot and a half.

Because I feel I owe her. I owe her totally.

Wanna know what she missed in first period? Her science class watched an episode of Bill Nye the Science Guy. An episode she'd already seen. And there were two vocabulary words that they put up on the board, which she could have easily gotten from someone else.

That's a shit ton of great education that she missed out on isn't it?

I'm so bullshit right now. I can't even express. And this isn't even my kid. Could you imagine what I'd be like if it were Jess who got a detention for being late?