You've got to be kidding

Holy Crap.

I seriously hope that this isn't true. Seriously. I'm not going to talk about this because it makes me too angry to be rational, so instead I have one word for you, Paris:

Tinkerbell.

Oh, and by the way, you can't put a rhinestone collar on a kid.

Cute Pic

Gotta love labor day. Here is Skywalker and Jaws enjoying a swingset moment, with Loli running rampant in the background.

Good Newses II

So, we found out that this next baby is a boy. Due January 18th. He's measuring big for his age, which is very cool. We're excited to have a boy in our girl family! Hooray!! So, we'll have three girls and two boys when this adoption process is over.

And...

I got an email today from Covenant, they asked for an electronic submission of my manuscript. They told me before that they had tabled it, so I moved on. But this request is a very, very good sign. Hooray!!

Onion article-- Rove leaves the white house

A little ascerbic, but definitely hilarious.

not all olives are equal

I have always loved black olives. My dad fed them to me as a baby. I would eat them like candy as a child. For Christmas one year, I requested a can of olives and found one in my stocking. I ate the entire thing by the end of the day.

I still love olives. I wait for sales, I buy in bulk-- olives and avocadoes (my husband's fetish) are our food budget luxuries.

But not every olive is alike for taste and quality. Here are some olive pointers:

Smaller olives are more delicious, most of the time. Don't buy the jumbo or large pitted, buy medium pitted. True, they won't fit on your fingers as well, but, well, we have to make some compromises if we want a truly delicious olive experience.

Be careful about generic brands. While some can produce a crisp, mildly salty, delicious olive, some are more inclined to the slightly winey, mushier type. If that's your preference, all the power in the world to you. As an olive connoseur, though, I have to say that I think I know what I'm talking about.

When you want to use only a few olives out of the can and save the rest, make sure you leave enough of that olive juice in the can to cover the remaining olives. Otherwise they get all rubbery and develop a distinctly winey aftertaste.

Unless you eat them on pizza or in mexican food, olives are much more delicious whole. (Olives in mexican food, you say? Oh, you need to try it.)

If any of you have bought yourself a can of olives that you are unsure of and would like advice, I am happy to inform you that my services as an olive tester are available. I'd give you my post office box, but then you would know where I live. So instead, I suggest that you post a picture of the olive in question and I will do my best to judge it on a purely visual basis.

The upside and the downside

I'm not really a fearful person, truthfully. I mean, I have my quirks. The ocean is not my friend. My dad loves rock climbing and I pretended to, growing up but truthfully, I never got over the heights thing. And airplanes terrify me, though I do my best to hide this fact from my five year old, who I have managed to convince that airplanes are great fun.

I'm not afraid to say what needs to be said, when there's a compelling reason to say it. I try to stay very friendly and upbeat if the conversation is a controversial one, but I don't cave. I'm someone who feels a need to speak up. Not all the time, but when someone is being hurt, for instance, or something isn't quite right and might lead some people astray, that sort of thing.

But I never like the aftermath. I don't like when a conversation descends into bickering. If someone gets upset at me for something I say, I do my best to de-escalate...

but I don't apologize. Not if I feel that something needed to be said.

The upside of being a person who thinks about things a little too hard, who is articulate for the most part, and who speaks up when necessary= I feel like I can be an instrument for good. I feel powerful.

The downside= people either love what you say, or they hate what you say. There is no moderation, no in- between, and people tend to be intimidated by you after you say it, no matter if they agree or not.

Sigh. But what can you do?

First day of what?

Kindergarten. That's right. I'm masochistic. We're homeschooling AND sending her to kindergarten, because I just want to have the hard work of both worlds.

No, actually, it's because I'm a big softy and don't want her to feel like she's missed out. Actually, my evil plan is to infiltrate the school system and then demand that she be allowed enrollment in whatever classes I choose without having to be enrolled fully! It would be a fun and challenging endeavor if it weren't actually already legally my right as a parent... so that's good.

So, kindergarten. Loli loves it.

But my car broke down when I was to go pick her up so I had to hastily assemble the bike trailer and hitch it up to the bike, and then ride four miles one way in the sun four and a half months pregnant, show up ten minutes late all sweaty and red and apologetic, and then cart 50 lbs of kid all the way back.

I'm going to go take a bath.