More than likely, my maiden name's heritage is Irish. This research confirms my ancestory. Boy, am I having the hardest time. It has been two weeks since a drop of alcohol has entered my system. Well, I do gargle with Listerine, but still. The weekdays are the hardest. And I'm not sure if I suffer from a need not being met or a major longing/want. At any rate, I would love to sit back and sip a martini or linger over a glass of red wine. But I won't. Because I have something to prove to Jesus, or to AA, or to myself, but I do have something to prove and prove it I will.

I think I have about a month left.

My favorite show on the telly has been accused of anti-Muslim portrayals. Truth be known, I've been a little uncomfortable watching of late, myself. Navi, the Muslim father and the terrorist operative (dead as of 2/21's episode) is a cold murderer and an inhumane father and a righteous and faithful man who is disgusted by a show of flesh and extramarital activity. Pretty harsh. The writers have always been careful - for the previous three seasons - to avoid stereotyping. Once before they had a Muslim subplot but that was eventually revealed to be only a small part of a corporate web. After last night, it seems probable that the Arabic terrorists in this season might also be part of a larger scheme.

Regardless, "24" is still really great this year. Much better than my other nine o'clock date. If only I had more time for the eight o'clock obsession....

Speaking of sterotyping and racism, my daughter has to do a report on a famous African-American for school. For the first time, I've heard her identify a person as "black". And "white". I guess it took 6 1/2 years, but it is still bittersweet to reveal the world in full color to her. The person she chose was a first grader who heroically integrated a school. Ruby Bridges is a fascinating and impressive subject, but sadly, we are having to edit my daughter's research a bit. I don't have a problem with her learning that schools were divided in our country at one point, but I'm not sure what benefit my little girl would glean from seeing protestors carrying black dolls in coffins.

Boy, it's amazing what you can learn in first grade.

Jeeeeeeeesus I ain't smart when it comes to these here compoooters. I try and I try to blog, but blog I cannot. And then I lose a thought. Or I'm asked to open another box of Sweethearts. Or I actually attempt to straighten or clean my house, something I have time to do but somehow never chose to do? So then, no blog entry. To my legions of devoted fans, my apologies.

I'm back as of tonight, and I have much to say and not much time to say it in. I have a very pressing commitment and then I should probably try and say a few words to the spouse, and there's the planning for the weekend that I need to do. If I don't plan the weekend, we get caught unawares and end up having to do horrifying, unpleasant things like eat bad food with boring people. (As it stands, we are going to be seeing an Oscar-nominated film this weekend, watching my baby girl play soccer, and going to church. I am also helping to watch my friend's children and there is the Y-Princess thing. I guess we are, as usual, booked solid. Oh for a free weekend without fear of boring people and bad food!)

Shit! I seem to have a blog entry without having said anything at all. But boy do I feel better now. Just having typed some of this and relaxed for a minute with you, my adoring public, has soothed my nerves. Well done, Whilst fans! Thank you ever so.

Why didn't I find this site earlier? Awful Plastic Surgery was out there all along. It is disheartening - for example, I really thought Gwen Stefani wouldn't go there. And some folks I just can't even glimpse....Janice Dickerson, that woman from Desperate Housewives, The King of Pop.

I find that I am inextricably drawn to shows like "The Swan" and "Extreme Makeover". I've never seen an entire episode but I've watched parts of these whilst my husband sits in the corner and screams "Make it go away! Stop! Avert your eyes!"

I tried. I really, really tried, people. I tried to watch "Oprah" today.

I poured some lime spritzer, sat down, put my feet up, and put the children out. I turned on the telly. I gazed at Oprah's beautiful new svelte self and her impeccable makeup and hair. I felt slightly jealous of her exotic kicks. I was drawn, briefly, to my knitting project, left tantalizingly close to my chair, but NO. I was going to watch "Oprah".

I finally opted to turn the sound on when I saw the segment on Oprah's trip to South Africa. The AIDS patient she visited seemed truly excited to see Oprah and the ill woman's daughter gave O a big hug. So I suppose Oprah did some good there, bringing awareness to this issue. And I'm sure she's thrown some money at the problem. Oprah is really good friends with Nelson Mandela, it seems.

This show was a look back at Oprah's production staff's favorite moments. Kind of a variety show. But after the third death story, I started flipping (really racy movies are on in the afternoon! Don't they know kids are watching??). I tried to go back to Oprah, but when I did, they showed Gwyneth Paltrow cooking and talking about her nursing breasts. I just didn't think I was up to all that. How can Oprah be up to it?

So I failed. I'm sorry. I think I have failed my fellow SAHMs out there. (SAHM = Stay At Home Mom, or, according to Dooce, Shit Ass Ho Motherfuckers) I need to try harder.

Don't I?

Hello from the Raleigh, NC version of Larry David. I continue to get into scrapes that are so Curb-worthy that I should consider a move to LA and reap a creative consultant fee. The run-ins I have with people convince me that there are very few people that I actually LIKE. I'm also convinced that there is a conspiracy to keep me from spending my precious free time with anyone likable. Who is thwarting me? Why, the people I don't like!

On the bright side, season tres is out on DVD, it has been Netflixed and should be in the mailbox today. I'll be laughing along with Larry tonight, not at him.

Maybe the world is coming to an end after all. HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN? Sometimes when I am really missing Georgia I listen to Kate and Cindy's harmonies on a song such as "Song for Future Generation" or "Roam". Or I review the votes cast in Georgia in favor of a constitutional ammendment banning gay marriage in last year's elections. Both the song and the vote count can soothe my longings and massage my appreciation for my current environs.

Still, current environs are so much very like a third-world country sometimes. We made the news for an inch of snow, people!

I doubt I'll ever go this far to assuage my guilt for driving a big-ass car. Nor will I ever go as far as the purported eco-terrorists have.

But I'm having a hard time deciding what to drive next. It sure is fun to pack a bunch of kiddos in your car at one time. And four-wheel drive is a must to get to the place in the mountains.

If only Poppleton would consider my dream vehicle! You can RINSE IT OUT WITH A HOSE! What better car for my sloppy family!

At a fantastic dinner last night, my companion took me to task for my anger about the second-term Inauguration. I promise, if John Kerry was currently showing this kind of extravagance, in the face of war and natural destruction, I would be upset too. Really. Bush-bashing is real - but so was Clinton-bashing - and really, there are those of us who are not blinded by the pepper spray of election loss. There are those of us who just think throwing money on a big party is not the way the leader of a country at war and in debt should act.

Come on, at least walk the Inaugural route....

Thirty to forty million dollar budget. Nine balls. Parades. Well, at least he is making sure that his (second term) inauguration reflects a nation at war.

I'm really trying hard to be a voice of reason. I really am - I'm trying to give liberals a better, clean-shaven, white, upper-middle-class face. But damn do these people make it hard. Have a parade - that's fine. Just cancel all of the balls except the one for military personnel and veterans, and give the money to the families of the war dead.

Please?

My book club is in a minor state of disarray after reading and discussing a fairly political tome...at our last meeting a Bush-voter was attacked by a pack of wild dogs still hungry after TWO THOUSAND's election. Completely unnecessary. It is all silliness and hurt feelings and closed-mindedness but somehow important and needed...I do wish we could all find a common language with which to discuss this stuff....

...but I for one can only say DAMMIT TO HELL EVIL BUSH ADMINISTRATION WHERE DO YOU GET OFF when I read reports like this one. The media is so constantly labeled as left-wing and controlled by the liberals. The No Child Left Behind Act is constantly being praised as a step forward for our schools and educational systems. Now we see that all is not what it seems. Not on either side. Michael Moore may be a dumb fat idiot, but I seriously doubt that he is being paid by the DNC to rattle on about Bush's school library habits during major crises of national security.

I would type more but I'm too mad and as usual, not well-informed enough. Off to read and review this situation further.

Today I went ice skating with my two darlings. Poppleton had to go buy shiny shoes and cufflinks, etc. so he only joined us late. POINT OF NOTE: Poppleton, my dear husband, can talk about tuxedo accessories longer than anyone! He goes on and on! He can find no lack of interesting (or not interesting) points about the topic to share!

Anywho...

...skating, on ice, anyway, does NOT come back to you quickly. On the contrary, there are 5 - 10 minutes minimum of shooting pain, intense fear, and thoughts of death. There are tiny swears made in one's mind to never try this again. Tiny realizations that you are not only too old for this, but you will never, ever snow ski. Tiny observations about every spear of pain moving through your shin.

But, after a while, I admired the go-get-emness of my two young charges and got into it. By the end of the session I was even attempting some backward skating and a snow plow stop (I wasn't bad as a child). We may even go back next Sunday. As long as there is an NHL lockout, then perhaps we owe it to the fans.

I did something important today. I went to the Times web site and looked at pictures of the dead, the grieving, and the damage from the tsunami in South and Southeast Asia. I had to do it. I think that we are sanitized whilst watching telly news (and thank goodness, for my children do not need to see that stuff at this age) and listening to NPR just doesn't cut it all the time.

I also told my son about it. I tried to temper the tale with assurances that this can't happen here and I soft-pedaled the carnage. He is now obsessed with his own death, though, and continues to ask me about sharks.

Which, you know, probably have played a huge role in the inability to find the missing.

It is really too much to think about sometimes.

Make a donation if you can.

I was a knitting fool over Christmas. I knocked out half a dozen scarves and an iPod cozy for Lynn. So I need a new project. What is next for me? Hmmmm. Maybe not.

I was also a traveling fool over Christmas. I went to Cartersville (Bartow County), Atlanta (Fulton County) and Macon (Bibb County), and finally to Clyde, NC (Haywood County) for New Year's Eve....a night of silence at the dinner table and snoring parents on the couch...but a sweet family time with a beautiful night of stars and warmth.

I was a sick fool over Christmas, though I did not have strep throat like my dear Lynn.

I was a slavish fool over Christmas, serving everyone's emotional and mental needs...talking with quarrelling relatives about each other and about their feeble, old parent...then talking with said parent about her own issues. Its a tough row to hoe but someone has to do it. I've always thought my role in life is to be the supportive one. I don't feel up to it, but I prefer that to being the one in need.

All in all a good holiday. I'm really glad its over. I'm not really glad to be back in town, but as my New Year's resolution is to work on my house and home and stay there more often, I need to get over that feeling.

I know I'm lucky.

Yes, Virginia....

mascara DOES freeze. Solid. And does not apply to eyelashes in a familiar fashion at all once frozen. Also freezable is the sliding door of a Honda minivan.

Just FYI.

Yes, Virginia...

... tights do eventually disintegrate. Hot weather will do it, and apparently, so will keeping them in your closet for seven years or more without wearing them.

Did I realize they might disintegrate whilst shopping at the new Target? Noooo....

Did you know that it is possible to change tights, even if you have on knee-high boots, in the front seat of your car? Hey - I was at Target! I was able to save the day!

So what to do with all the pairs that I saved from pre & during pregnancy (i.e., when I was a working girl)? Sigh.

My hometown is often the site of bizarre incidents, including my birth and wedding. This article describes yet another strange happening. No one in Macon would yell "murderer" at anyone. At least not to their face.

Looks like its gonna be a white Christmas in my town this year. Boy, do I grow tired.

I'm enjoying my church a little more these days - we have a new pastor and he takes the job more than seriously. He's a hugger and his hair is really so very pastory but there is new life in the congregation and I'm not feeling like the lone voice of adventurous liberal-type questioning anymore.

I wish I were more thick-skinned. My neighbor and I have had a troubled relationship from the get-go, compounded by the fact that I cannot abide her child at all and am dismayed at his lying, his treatment of my children, and his destructive abilities (I thought this was MY problem, but other children have come over here with nary an incident, so there!). She is distancing herself now, which she should do, and for which I am grateful, but I never feel comfortable knowing there is someone out there not liking me. Why I give a shit, I'll never know. My plan is to drop this care once and for all when I hit 40.

The Christmas cards are almost done - nothing creative this year, just a cutie-pie picture of my girl with no front teeth and my boy loving on her. Being the family whipping post means that I mail to Aunt Alice and Uncle Arthur (who, I found out today, is dead. Will his card be returned? Forwarded to his descendents? What?) and Cousins Brenda and John. And John on the other side, too. I don't mind doing this - someone has to I guess, and I'm good at it. I just want to be thanked.

Finally, a note about my husband's bad behaviour this week. He wanted a snack. Did he go for a sandwich, a bowl of cereal, some nuts or an orange? NO! He opened the delightful baguette toasts for appetizers I was saving and ate them. All. And then for snack dessert, opened a jar of frosting. This sounds gross, but sadly it is one of my serious weaknesses so I am currently nursing a stomach heavy-laden with lardy icing and wondering what exactly I was thinking marrying a skinny man with a tapeworm. Love him though I do.

I had a car accident. Kind of my fault, kind of the fault of the humongous Suburban that kept me from seeing the speeding red car headed right at me (it is no secret that I do not care for humongous Suburban-like cars). The car accident has made me think so much that my brain hurts and that I need a nap.

The guy's car was totalled. My car, not so much. Me, the well-off young white girl in the minivan with a boy and his friend, not having to work because my husband does so well. He, the man just getting off from work whose registration was not current, whose license was expired, who may very well not have insurance. And who now does not have a car. At least he has a caring girlfriend, who, in her phone call to me today, identified herself suddenly as "fiancee". Lynn thinks they are going to shaft me. She's probably right.

Last night was bleak as all hell. I had to make a thousand phone calls to the thousands of people who were relying on me for something. I had to make my husband come from work. I had to rely on a stranger to change my tire (who did so despite his distaste for the constant stream of foul-smelling gas emitted by my son). I had to call the mother of my son's friend, who has already dealt with a year and a half of chemo for her child and now has to worry about letting her children ride with people.

Of course, had I not been so completely giving and maybe a little selfish on behalf of my family, I would not have been out driving at a busy hour at a bad intersection. I need to learn to say NO and say it often.

I had bad dreams and visions all night - of what could have happened, about what might have been, about where I might have ended up instead of in my bed, cozy and warm. I am lucky as all hell.

In the middle of the night, I went to check on my son - out of guilt, fear, whatever. I tucked in his covers and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. He woke up and said, "Mommy?" Yes? "I love you." I sure have a lot to be grateful for and I'll try to take more time and more opportunities to do just that.

Hello again, hello. I just wanted to say, "hello". I've been gone for such a long,long time. Mainly because of problems with the blogger.com site. I really need someone to sit down and give me a tutorial on how to get my computer back to the pristine, lovely, spam-free creature she used to be.

READING: "To America" by Stephen Ambrose. Poor guy. I'm not a history buff, but I am a prose buff, and so far it is sloooooow going. Also reading a gift from my very favorite Republican, white, wealthy, religious, educated female of a certain age who is married with children (but she's so much more than that): "Barbarians at the Gate" by a bunch of guys. It is pretty interesting, but I have a lot to learn about big business.

WATCHING: "A Lion in Winter" with Kate. Ah, Kate. "Bruce Almighty". Oh, Jim. And with my daughter, "Samantha: An American Girl Holiday". A charming, heartwarming, tearjerking tale about a girl in upstate New York around the turn of the century. Great acting, very moving animated Tide commercials featuring American Girl dolls, and enough sweet plot twists to make my cry several times and for my husband to laugh at me.

LISTENING TO: "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb" by who else. I mean, come on. If you can't love this album, then you don't deserve to call yourself a rock and roll fan. It has it all: ballsy vocals, layered production, "rifferama" as Bono called it in the Times,, Interpol-inspired bass, classic U2 drumming, and lovely lovely melodies with lyrics that are incredibly thoughtful but not so preachy.

I'm also way into Interpol, but you guessed that. I missed seeing them in NYC...can you imagine? It would be like seeing REM in Athens in the 80s. Oh yeah, I did that.