Biology - the study of life

Last night we went out to dinner. I absolutely LOVE going out to dinner b/c I absolutely HATE to cook.

Driving home from dinner, my h. and I were talking about mean high school teachers. I cannot remember what sparked this conversation. As I was sharing about some of my ghosts from high school past (and by ghosts, I mean, old, snarky high school teachers) the word, biology, may have come up. H. comments that he only took bio in high school and never college. So then, apparently overcome with lethargy from my glutton, I told the following story:

Freshman year of college I had a HUGE crush on my biology professor. He was young, single and had a huge collection of insects. (He might have actually been Grissom.) I am not typically a very studious science student. I actually despise learning science, but my little crush caused me to study extra hard. I would even "accidentally" take items from the lab so I would have a reason to return them later with my best flirtatious, "Oops. I must have had this bunsen burner in my hand and was so busy trying to get to my next class that I didn't realize I had taken it. And it burned my class notes so can you please repeat your lecture from today. Privately. Just for me."

I ended up getting a 100% in the class (legitimately) and I am pretty sure Bill Nye never even knew I had a crush. A few years later I was in a teaching group with his wife (newly married). She was really nice and did not even have compound eyes.

This story in itself is not really the point; albeit somewhat humiliating. It was that after the telling, my h. looks at me and says, "I don't think you've ever told me this story before. This was FRESHMAN year of college?"

And that's when it hit me and there was no real way I could talk my way out of this one. My husband and I started dating freshman year of college. He always thought that I was just a VERY conscientious student. He even disregarded the insect catching net in my backpack as being part of my "quirky" personality.

Last time I ever get the chicken parmesan.

Haven't you ever ridden on that streetcar?

My first "official" play is officially over. I have very mixed feelings about it. The play itself was a little too risque for my taste but well written and well performed by the leads.

I didn't have a huge part but I did get a dressing room, met some interesting people and had a completely new experience.

It did take an incredible amount of time away from my family and during show week my youngest son actually said, "I hate Streetcar!" Although, it does seem that every time you are away from your family you appreciate them more when you finally return. I have to admit that I wasn't really bit by the theater bug but it was still rewarding to conquer something completely out of my comfort zone.

And I won the Paper Bag Award for most relevant tattoo!

Guilty Verdict

I have made yet another mommy mistake.

Several weeks ago my youngest son "misplaced" his DSi. Being the fabulous parents we are we lectured him on his responsibilities. Being the apathetic child he is he simply stated that he could still play his old DS so there was really no foul.

Nary a day passed that we did not mention this great loss, the great expense of the item and the great disappointment we felt.

Now, I am not a fan of breakfast and rarely partake of this early morning ritual. However, this morning I was feeling uncharacteristically hungry, found some instant oatmeal in the cupboard and decided that since this did not require any preparation on my part, it would suffice. I also rarely use sugar but since the oatmeal wasn't exactly tasty, I decided to channel Emeril and "kick it up a notch". As I reached for the sugar my hands came across a rectangular shaped object, hesitantly pulled it towards me and upon seeing this off-centered cyclops, I gasped. Sudden realization hit me.

I had apparently taken the DSi when the youngest had been misusing his privilege and put it out of his reach. Unfortunately, both he and I forgot about this little incident.

I have just 4 hours before I have to pick him up from school. That should be sufficient time to prepare my apology speech. Either that or I stash it in his room where he could conveniently "find" it...

Jumping on the Blog Bandwagon

Jumping on the blog bandwagon. I have kept several blogs in the past but never allowed anyone to actually READ them. We'll see how long I can keep this going.

Of course, now I have absolutely nothing to say. This may be an impediment to my new blogging lifestyle. Hmmm...