Back to school, back to school...

So I am back- kind of.  I am still soooo out of it.  I can't take my pain killers at school (who made THAT rule up?!) so I load up on them once I get home.

Today was my first official day back in school!  I am so excited.  Oh yea- here is my disclaimer- I am going to totally geek out here for a minute.  Sorry folks.

Yesterday I met with my department head at school.  During our meeting he suggested that I start an Honors Reading Group.  Me!  He wants me to do it!  Totally rad.  So I am going to do it and it is going to be the raddest reading group ever.  Better than yours at least!  I am going to base it on the female post colonial identity.  You can ask me about it someday.  You know you want to.

Also, I was given a lead for a research assistant gig through a top notch professor that is studying at Cambridge right now.  She is working on a project that deals with 19th century Brit Lit and Gender studies (a.k.a EXACTLY what I want to study in Grad school).  Well, guess who got the position?

That's right folks!

So yes, it is a ton of work and I will be the first to admit that it is absolutely insane of me to take on these two huge jobs on top of all the classes I am enrolled in.  Oh yeah, and the family and all...but what can you do?  And it makes me happy.  And it will get me paid in Grad school.  Hell, it will get me IN Grad school. Period. 

Side note- I looked like a moron all day today.  My jaw is still really swollen and bruised from the horrible root canal that caused this huge bout of TMJ.  Plus, I am pretty sure that no one could understand me and were just agreeing with me to humor me.

Oh well.  I got what I needed! 

Tomas goes back to school next week.  The fifth grade!  Holy Cow!  And in roughly two weeks he will be ten years old.  I can't believe it.

Here's what else I can't believe- how incredibly obnoxious pre-teens are!  

Here is another disclaimer- I LOVE my kids, and I LOVE Tomas.  That said- what the hell is wrong with pre-teens?!  No son, you can't have a cell phone.  No son, you can't have your own private unmonitored email address.  No, you can't say crap.  I don't care how many of your friends have one/use one/say it/ stole it/are hiding it from their parents.

And while we are at it- what is with all the questions?!  What I am doing you ask?  ADULT STUFF.

What's that?  What am I eating?  WHATEVER I WANT.  I'M AN ADULT.

What's that you say?  Oh you already knew that?  Oh that's right, you know everything.  Already.  By ten years old.  I totally forgot.

Geesh!

How do you survive this?  If this is any precursor to teens, I am so screwed.

Screwed.

Tell Everyone-

Cory and I went to see a really awsome French film a few weeks back called "Tell No One". I really loved it. Today I found a review for it on NPR-



http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93522536#share





Check it out! Then go see it...



xoxo-

J.Danger

The gig is up...

Someone emailed me yesterday asking me why in the world are all of the blogs on my blog roll about reading and cooking?

Well, I couldn't possibly have a life outside of my kids and husband right?!

Wrong. The gig, my friends, is up.

All of the blogs listed on my blog roll are about reading and cooking because my friends, my dear readers (all 4 or so of you) I am.......

a total nerd.

And you know what? That is perfectly fine in my book!

So here is the truth, plain and straight-

The name is Jessica. I have two kids and a dear husband, all three of which I adore. I am, first and foremost, a wife and mother. But after that....

I read. More than any person should ever read. (Is that possible?! What am I saying here?)

I cook, a lot. I just recently refined the art of NOT burning everything that enters my oven, so I am kind of on a roll here folks. Feel free to cheer me on accordingly.

I had our oldest son in high school, and I while I don't recommend it (DON'T DO IT) I also wouldn't have it any other way.

Because I had our oldest son in high school, it has taken me nearly ten years to get my B.A in English, with an emphasis on Literature. But I am almost done, and have a graduation date set.
I am already looking at Grad school and my prospects are looking good.

I am working om my senior thesis/Grad school writing sample. In a nutshell it it based on Jane Eyre and Wide Sargasso Sea with a focus on the importance placed on a woman's inheritance and also Feminist Theory and Postcolonial Theory. Thats enough for now, but I am so excited about it. If you want to hear more about it you can email me. I have no problem talking about it! (p.s. FOR HOURS!)

I am so cool that I am usually in bed by ten p.m., although I am trying so hard to change that because I need those hours for studying. I just can't help myself! I love sleeping. Actually, I just love my bed. I could (and try to) be in bed all day. Not even really just sleeping, thats where I work a lot too. It's a nice bed...

I am the clutziest person ever, despite the fact that, or maybe because of, I have gigantic feet! I have lost track of how many times I have fallen down our stairs.

I LOVE Scrabble. And Mah Jong.

I will read just about anything. Just about...

I cry during movies. And I have to have popcorn at the theatre.

I have a penchant for cardigans.

I am often mistaken for a librarian, but that secretly makes me happy. (if its a HOT librarian!)

I just learned how to play Gin Rummy.

I have a hard time reading more than one book at a time.

I have the worse case of Stayhomeitis ever.

I am weird about germs, public restrooms, restaurants that don't have good lighting (what are they hiding?) and being in large loud crowds.

I love listening to all kinds of music. But I am terrible at remembering music information. Like band names, song names, album names. Thats what I married my husband for- he's like a walking music encyclopedia.

I love art, particularly sketch, graphic and street art.

I am heavily tattooed, much to my mother's dismay, which always throws people for a loop. (before it was trendy jerks) People usually assume that I am a. stupid, b. a hoodlum, c. a horrible parent. I am none of those things. Or am I????

I have walked into poles while reading, driven into a pole while daydreaming, and one time I even tripped over a pole. Still not sure how, but I did it.


So there you have it folks. I am not as cool as I try to portray.

I cook and read. That is why I have a blogroll full of cooking and reading blogs.

My kids think I am cool, but I only got like two more years outta that one with Tomas before I am totally uncool.

BUT GUESS WHAT!

I have a ton of new stuff coming up with This Dangerous Life! I have got some great guest posts lined up that are just way cooler than I could ever pretend to be...and...wait for it.......

SOME GIVEAWAYS!

Yep, nothing is better than free stuff! Free is way better than cheap.

So stay tuned...

and lets just pretend that you still think I am super cool.

Drugs and Goop

Time lines are always helpful, no?

They help in crime cases, whodunits, party planning, meal preparation, lots of things. Here is my timeline for yesterday, in case I ever get caught in the middle of a glaring whodunit. And luckily for me, and now for you too, I am a total text message whore so I have a real documented time line. Take THAT coppers!

4:00 p.m.- Finally suffering enough back pain to convince my stubborn mom instincts that my health is indeed just as important as my boys, and that I do indeed need to go to Urgent Care before I claw out my eyeballs, throw them at YOU, and sucker punch my boss.

4:18- I arrive at Urgent Care. It is full of people! Everywhere. You know what else it is filled with? GERMS. Everywhere! I enter the waiting room, try not to touch ANYTHING, and attempt to hold my breath for my entire visit.

4:19- Exhale loudly, gasping for breath, red faced and thank my husband for always being the one that takes the kids to this god forsaken germ fest when needed (shit! did I just jinx myself?! I'm sorry boy-os!)

4:21- I get called in to the nurse's station. WOW! That was quick. Yep, it was also too good to be true because they sent me right back out with the doom filled message that I can expect to wait two whole hours before being seen. However, the nurse was kind enough to tell me that if I wanted to go walk around Target they are having a back to school sale. I'm sorry- did you not read my chart- you know, the one you are holding?! Right this second...the one that says I am here because I can barely bloody move?! And I am supposed to walk? To Target?! What the hell lady!

4:22- now I am pissed, but I go back to holding my breath.

4:45- Husband calls about what to make for dinner

4:47- Husband calls again- Canola Oil or vegetable oil? Does it matter?

5:45- Husband calls to tell me that I am never allowed to come back home because apparently when I am not home for dinner the kids are just angels, food tastes better, the dishes wash themselves, and world peace abounds.

6:15- I have finished this book-

I feel remarkably more intelligent than before I got there. I also feel remarkably more 1. ill, 2. frustrated 3. irritated 4. my ass is killing me 5. hungry 6. what the hell is that man staring at me for?! 7. why won't this kid stop staring at my arms?! 8. what the hell is that god damn buzzing sound?!

6:16- I found an apple in my purse. Gotta love mom purses!

6:49- I am in a room!

7:00- waiting.....

7:10- still effing waiting....

7:30 Doctor finally comes in. Reminds me of a weird hybrid of Bill Nye the Science Guy and Mr. Rogers. Talks to me like I am five years old, tells me my last doctor was wrong, and so I have been working in vain for months to make this better in the first damn place!

7:35- Finally diagnonsense- Lower Lumbar Strain (No shit).

7:37- His prescription- take a few days off your feet and go in the hot tub a minimum of twice a day (I'm sorry. Here- lets play a game. It will be tons of fun! We will call it "Let's Compare How Much You, Mr. Doctor, Make with How Much I, Mrs. Perpetual Student Makes, and See Which One of Us This Prescription Works For). I tell him that this prescription, although the best effing idea on the planet, will not work for me.

7:40- I am picking up my painkillers from the pharmacy!

8:00- Dear husband kept the kids up so that I could at least say hello, oh! and let them know that I wasn't dead, that too

8:10- Oliver is screaming bloody murder in bed with Dad, I am reading with Tomas in his room. Oh, what a delightful little mommy and son moment. Reading in bed, oh how cute! Let me be so moved by the Rockwell-esque moment that I caress your hair in a motherly manne- WHAT THE HELL IS IN YOUR HAIR TOMAS?!

"What? Oh we were playing at *****y's and I put on his army man helmet and it was just a teeny tiny little bit sticky. Do you think I should take a shower?

What the hell Tomas?! Of course I think you should take a shower- there is some sort of a dead animal plastered into your hair! Get in there now and don't touch anything! ever!

9:15- Tomas is in bed, crying about the world ending over this total injustice, with three rounds of shampoo in his hair, two rounds of dish soap, an entire bottle of baby oil, $17 conditioner (mine!), 5 pounds of mayonnaise, and some sort of a dead animal plastered into his hair.

All delicately covered underneath a beanie.

Now. WHERE THE HELL ARE MY PAINKILLERS?!

Weekend Wrap Up

This weekend was pretty dang awesome!

Tomas came home on Saturday, safe and sound! But man, was he stinky! He was so filthy- I swear to you that his clothes were stiff. Ewwww gross. Man, when is Mr. Danger gonna give me some of them baby girl Dangers?!

This week we were able to spend some time with Nealy before she went back to New York, and it was a ton of fun for Oliver. We took him to peruse the Spectrum, and by peruse I mean run around screaming and dancing like a maniac. Nanny bought him a new Cars hat- which he has refused to take off since then- as well as a new Molly Train- which he has refused to let go of since. Update- we are thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisssssssssss close to nailing the alphabet. I'm trying...i'm trying reallllllll hard.

Yesterday we took the boy-os to the Natural History Museum to see the "live" Dinosaurs. Here is how it went down-

The baby Triceratops walks in....

Oliver runs the hell out screaming bloody murder with nanny. Poor Nanny cruises the Ornithological society section with the baby. For an hour!

Tomas is doing his thing, watching the triceratops, when he starts jiggling...and bouncing...now he's crossing his legs at the ankles...still bouncing....finally holding himself and grimacing.

Me- Tomas do you have to go to the restroom?

Tomas- Yea, but I dont want to miss the T-Rex.

Me- We can run to the bathroom and get back in time to be here for Thomas the T-Rex.

Right about here is where you can go ahead and insert a mental image of a grown (eh, kinda) woman running through a museum with her oldest son who is holding himself and trying to run at the same time. It should also be noted that we ran right past a bathroom, and totally missed it. We looked... like morons people.

We run back, we get cozy, the triceratops is still there. We're totally good.

Tomas- Mom, can we go? This is pretty boring.

What?! What the hell Tomas?! This is the ONLY reason we drove all the way out to L.A. was to see the T-Rex. And it's BORING?! Jesus!

At least we got to revisit USC. We gently reminded Tomas (7 times) that if he wants to be a dentist this is where he will be going to school (like he would even want to go out of state, away from his dear mother!)...so keep those grades up...look how pretty it is...oh, I mean manly and handsome...

(internal- and damn expensive!)

But dentists make a ton of money right?

And isn't there that dental law that says you have to always take care of and/or financially and emotionally support your mother once you are huge and successful?

Yea, I am pretty sure it's in the fine print.

Operation Laundry

Tomas has been gone all week. (oops, sorry! I made it almost one whole day!) So how is it exactly that all of our hampers are still overflowing with a smorgasboard of stinky men/youngmen/toddler clothes?! Even Tomas has an overflowing hamper, and he is not even here!

What the hell guys!

Oliver has this new habit of storing "treasures" in his pockets. Why do they even give toddlers pockets? For their wallets? Really?!

Here is what I found yesterday in his teeny tiny babykin pockets-

4 clothing tags (he forces me to cut them off, but them keeps them. He rubs them adoringly through the day. Why?)

3 small grey pebbles

1 ball of rolled up red string

1 (originally was a ) breadstick

32 cents (ka-ching! Housekeeping IS profitable!)

House rule- mom keeps the money she find when doing the laundry. It's my sur-charge.

Today I received one of the highest compliments ever. A dear family friend of ours claimed that my writing style reminds her of Erma Bombeck.

I was flabbergasted!

Here is a link to an amazing website of hers-
http://www.ermamuseum.org/home.asp

With that- here is a quote of hers that I love (and you know me and quotes!)-

"When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.' "

Have a good day dearies!

xoxo,
J.Danger

The Bus

Here is Cha-Cha, on the infamous bus.





This will be my last post on Tommy being gone at camp, I promise.

Oh but did I tell you? He will be entering the double digit birthdays in a month.

ONE MONTH.

TEN YEARS OLD.

DOUBLE DIGITS.

OH NO.