The State of Tennessee has decided he is old enough to operate a motor vehicle

Yesterday was Elijah's 15th birthday. We decided to throw a big party since we haven't really had one for him in a while.

The timing wasn't ideal. In every job I've had, there's been some annual multi-day event where you work on your feet for 12 or 14 hours every day. That event in my new job took place this week. It's the only time of the year that the CEO comes from NY to the Memphis office. It's high-pressure and high-stress and the lead-up to his arrival were also 14-hour days. It was over by Thursday night and Friday was spent mostly in postmortem meetings and jumping in on the newsletter that will highlight the event in 16 pages. Friday after work I went and got a pedicure because I don't think my feet could've hurt worse if I'd been walking on thumbtacks all week and I needed a little pampering.

Saturday was another eight hours of running around and being on my feet. There was so much to do to get ready. So much to pick up and prepare and then there was the party itself which I couldn't just sit and enjoy because I had to constantly make sure teenagers weren't wandering off and doing something they shouldn't be.

We had a big poster board that we had everyone sign like a giant card. It was fun because all the girls wrote sweet things and the boys signed things like "Pam Anderson" and drew wieners.

This is Ethan.

This is Baileigh and her boyfriend Jay dancing.

This is Ethan interrupting their slow dance with a cheese and fruit tray.

Here's Elijah's 88-year-old grandfather dancing with the hot teenage girls.

This is Sam and Hannah. Sam has a big crush on Hannah. Elijah says Sam has a crush on everyone. Sam says, "Don't be a playa hata."

This is Wesley who went to the beach with us this summer (on the left). He and this other boy whose name I can't remember had to shave their heads to play varsity football this year.

This is Elijah's first girlfriend from middle school.

I have no idea who these girls are.

These kind folks were our neighbors when Elijah was a baby. He was the first little baby that she knew well and has watched him grow up over the years. When he was about 2, he saw her in shorts one day and pointed to the veins on her legs and said, "Look, Mom! Susan has cactus tattoos!" She's never forgotten that story.

Here's a few things I learned about throwing a party for a teenager:

#1

Buy more bottled water and less soda. If you have a dance contest with a cash prize, they will dance around and get all hot and sweaty and want water.

#2

Glow necklaces aren't really a good idea. In the first half of the evening they will use them to beat each other. Later in the night they will melt them down in the citronella candles.

#3

No more cake. Ever.

It was a really nice cake prior to the food fight, too, although the decorator seems to have been a little J-challenged:

#4.

The Cha-Cha-Slide is today's generation's version of our Electric Slide, i.e. it gets everyone on the dance floor. Even Elijah:

(Please to notice how much taller he is than all the girls.)

Happy Birthday, my boy.

If A=B and B=C, then A=C

When the earthquake hit San Francisco, the right-wing conservatives said it was because God hates homosexuals.

When the hurricane hit New Orleans, they said it was because God hates sin and debauchery.

If that's the way God works, then I'm guessing He hates Republicans. That's why he sent the hurricane to screw up their convention.

Just sayin'.

I Am Somebody

My office door has a nameplate. Go me.

Pardon the interruption...

But my church is in the news today.

The New Me

<---------- There's a photo of me with my new $175 cut & color. Don't ask me why it's so big. I tried to make it smaller but I'm not that good with code. Don't ask me why it's so hot, either. I just know that my highlights aren't quite that phosphorescent in person. Don't ask me why! Ah do not make the rules, Clairee!

I seriously do not know when my life got this busy.

Here's the thing about working really long hours during the week: everything else you need to do gets relegated to the weekend.

8AM
Got up

8:30 AM
Drive through Starbucks. Notice back of Starbucks card - the part with the stripe - is peeling off.

9 AM
At the hairdresser's for 2-hour cut and highlight appointment. Which ended like this:
Him: Are you still using a flat iron?
Me: Yes.
Him: That's going to ruin your hair.
Me (all smugly sure of herself): Is my hair fried?
Him: It's getting that way in the front. But don't worry. I'm sure you'll look fine with broken-off bangs.

Nice. Perhaps it is time to go back to the curly hair. I don't know. I've been straightening it for an awfully long time now. I like how it looks straight. But truth is, I could save myself tons of time if I were to go back to curly. And time does seem to be at a premium these days.

11:10 AM
Pick up jacket from alterations shop. Try on. Decide sleeves look considerably better at wrist bones than at knuckles.

11:20 AM
Pick up Big Daddy at car place where he's getting my Mercedes detailed.

11:30 AM
Drop off clothes (including altered jacket) at cleaners. Also pick up last Saturday's clothes from cleaners. Figure I'll have on-going Saturday affair with dry cleaner for some time to come.

11:40 AM
Starving. Pick up lunch at Chick-Fil-A. Lady in front of me in drive-thru places order, only pulls up 1/2 a car length so I can't get to the speaker, even though there's plenty of room in front of her. Twitter mean comment about her along w/ her tag number. Am cranky when hungry.

11:50 AM
Home. Eat quick chicken sandwich.

12 Noon
Shower, shave legs, deep condition fried and possibly breaking hair.

12:15 PM
Put on make up. Dry hair. Straighten with evil flat iron. Dress. Is a miserably long process. U.S. water polo's "Titanic upset" of Croatia is on TV in the background. Whenever I hear fans cheering "CRO-A-TIA!" I think it's Big Daddy hollering my name from downstairs.

2 PM
At church for choir practice. Tuesday night rehearsals are no longer an option seeing how I was at work until 9 p.m. this past Tuesday.

3 PM
Choir rehearsal with the band. Am feeling highly intolerant of some other choir members today. Not all that Christian-like.

4 PM
Starbucks. Considered getting my nails done during break between rehearsal and church but am tired of rushing around. Decide I needed to sit down and relax a bit.

4:15 PM
Other choir and band members come in for coffee. Accidentally get into a conversation with the bass player who fears an Obama presidency will take away his gun rights. Have no idea how to respond. Just smile and nod a bit.

5 PM
Back at church.

5:30 PM
Sing at evening service. Leave as soon as music worship is over (will actually attend a full service tomorrow with the family).

6 PM
Pick up family and in-laws for dinner out. Had fresh mozzarella & tomato salad and Elfo special at Frank Grisanti's. Conversation at dinner:
MIL: "My croutons are stale. I don't like it when they're hard."
Me (under my breath to Elijah): "That's what she said."
Elijah (poking my arm with plastic sword from drink): "Inappropriate!"
Me: "Quit. I don't want that on me after it's been in your mouth."
Elijah: "That's what she said."

8:30 PM
Home. And very tired. Settle in to watch some Olympics. Set alarm for 6 AM. On the books for tomorrow: Sing three church services (8, 9:30 and 11:15 a.m.), get nails done, go grocery shopping, do laundry. Don't even want to think about the fact that my house looks like a tornado came through.

Why You Should Be Watching the Olympics: Reason #1

US Swimmer Ryan Lochte (in the middle, with the gold). How cute is he?

A post about not posting

I have to confess: there are two other reasons that I haven't posted much in the last week or so.

First, I lent my laptop to my brother. So he could watch some movies and television in his native language while he is IN PARIS. Yes, my brother is in Paris. For work. What does he do, you ask? He runs a printing press. Apparently, one of his company's sister-companies (in Paris) is behind a bit in their work and not all that experienced on their new press, so they sent my brother and a couple other guys who do know how to run it over there to help them catch up a bit. Could you imagine? So jealous. But anyhoo, he didn't want to watch the BBC the whole time he was there (the only TV channel that's not en francais) so I lent him my laptop. I figured I could use Elijah's. Ha! Note to self: Teenagers' laptops aren't really laying around unused all that often.

Secondly, duh. The Olympics are on.

Now, if you'll excuse me, a woman my age is about to swim.

The Smartest Wizard in the Class

Man, it feels like FOR. EV. ER since I looked at Go Fug Yourself. I mean, I'm barely getting through scanning blogs in Google Reader - I had to discontinue their feed because there are just too many posts and you can't see the photos in the reader anyway and I simply have not had time to click through to their site.

So today, after my newsletter went to New York for approval, and I was just sitting around...waiting for the phone to ring and the CEO to start screaming so loudly into the recevier about WHAT A PIECE OF SHIT MY WORK IS that my hair blows back like a Road Runner cartoon, I suddenly remembered, "Oh yeah. That old site."

Wow, there's been some really bad fashion happening while I was buried in overtime. (See: Katie/Peg-legged Jeans). There was this one photo of Hermione/ Emma Watson of which the Fug Girls decided that the dress was 'meh,' but at least she looks her age and her twat is not showing.

I was so supremely impressed with her hair & make-up that I was all, "What dress?"

When it comes to pretty English actresses, I think she's going to be right up there with Kate Winslet.

Talk Amongst Yourselves

I'll give you a topic:

Ralph Lauren's oversized Polo ponies on the US Olympic Team's Opening Ceremony uniforms: tacky self-promotion or heartland American fashion?

Did you miss me? Or even notice I was gone?

As a matter of public service, it is necessary that I announce to you that my regular blogging schedule may be termporarily interrupted by the new job schedule.

Perhaps you noticed this already.

My job entails writing and editing a 12-page newsletter that comes out every-other week. So, week one, I do a lot of writing. Week 2, I do a lot of editing, frantic last-minute changes and printing (including some late-night press checks). So, every-other week I will be working really long, really late hours. And it doesn't take much to exhaust this middle-aged body and my brain seems to tire especially easily. So those nights when I don't get home until 9 (or 11), I fall straight into bed. I've hardly had the energy or the brain power to READ blogs, much less to write one.

I'm only able to type this because I slept 12 straight hours last night.

Hopefully, in a few weeks, I will adjust to this schedule and become more adapted. Or something.

Things to do in the meantime:

1. Bring back the housekeepers
2. Teach Elijah to wash his own damn clothes
3. Post number to pizza delivery on fridge
4. Pick up some B12 at Walgreens
5. Load Starbucks card. A lot.

Thank you for your patience and continued support.