dear melter of smurfs,

Really, what on earth was that gak-like substance melted in your stove? Bet it smelled awesome!

Well so here I am. Right eye twitching and occasionally leaking out the far corner. It's Set Up for Vacation Bible School week. Which does tap into my crafty spirit, although the marble wall did thwart me. Yesterday we made a well out of a table wrapped in last year's paper brick wall, and I rimmed the top edge in sand and thinned-out glue.

I'm in that phase of feeling like Facebook is impossibly stupid, full of inconsequential drivel, so I either need to change whoever's showing up in my feed or stick to the short-short list (because I don't want to miss out on gak, that's the good stuff) or just not check it so much at all.

There's a very good chance I'll finish the book I'm reading, which is not even the usual fluff-fare. Amazing. I feel all bookish again. And I'm excited that we've picked another book to read together!

Three weeks without satellite dish and I miss it not at all. Hulu and Netflix together are more than adequate (I say until ProRun premieres. How did you access that??)

I've painted my toes two weeks in a row and have been wearing borderline cute clothes, maybe to make up for my complete lack of chutzpah. It's raining a lot, so as to invite children's loudness and puppy's boredom and also garden soil's fungus gnats. J.Lo is having an especially bullshit time at work, fixing an impossibly long list of broken things. And let's not forget that terrible daily puzzle of tingling limbs and lost words and whether or not I'm actually losing my mind. That'd be nice to solve. But right now I could really use some pretzels.

hashing it out

So I survived the morning sub gig? And I wouldn't say I want to slam the door and run away completely. I'm still processing, so let's talk about it. I'll probably be processing for awhile so it's good I had the chance now and have the time before deciding whether you know - is this what I want to do. Try for. Maybe? The parents overall seem higher maintenance than the children. And the children were all batty because there was a sub. And oh, they were 2-year-olds. I'm fairly sure this is not my preferred age group. And some were sweet but then I do feel like for 3 hours straight you are reprimanding at least one person at all times. And that can be a complete drain. And some of it was just plain overwhelming - like knowing who drops off who and who picks up who and the Personalities and keeping track of how this and that kid did over the course of the day and blah blah. And you forget at that age that you can basically manhandle them if they're not doing what they're supposed to do. Not coming out from the corner? I can so pick you up and carry you wherever I want. Which was the case at pretty much every turn. Crawling under the tables and rocking the chair back into the wall and dismantling the cozy corner, etc. And the new kid who cried - I think he bothered me the least however. Because I get where he's coming from. Anyway if I were there all the time and they were more "my" little students, I suppose it would all become second nature, the absorbing of all these personalities and their rhythms? Maybe. Or would I still at the end of the days feel like I was having to be just so *on* every second, all the time. I find that exhausting. And I totally did yearn for the world of by-myself-$2/hr-fuckit-so-be-it freelance writing work. Oh the tradeoff. Maybe I'll end up settling for a mix? Who knows. Process, process. Process some more. 

Anyway I was completely exhausted this afternoon. 

So back to my self-reminders - HOLY SHIT those designers this season on ProRun! I mean there are bad, mostly missing the mark runway shows and there's the thing that just happened with pretty much absolutely nothing looking even remotely good, at all. Embarrassing execution of sad designs. Nina Garcia in inconsolable yet mirthful tears. Heidi waving her finger and literally saying, Bad Designers. Like they were all puppies. But seriously Patricia and that time-suck of a horrible basket-weave shirt! And those ginormous shirts and shrunken ties and pants that were literally unvelcroing at the seams. While the model stood there, unmoving. Yipes. Just - so bad. I'm already ready for the next season, because who is even going to redeem themselves by the finale, I have few guesses and little hope. 

Birthday! I already filled you in some but that favorite selected moment - it had to have occurred outdoors, as the weather was so penelope-perfect I could barely stand it. Probably when we were all eating our unexpected cinnamon rolls from the cupcake bakery on the backporch. Watching puppy roam. Feeling the spring breeze. Adoring the cream-cheese frosting. Mmm. Yes, that. 

It's Thursday and oh look, I'm already completely behind on bible study for Monday. Whatever? I just can't keep up. Much less with Children's Council stuff, which I've completely blanked on since the last meeting. Too busy mind-spiraling and destroying my fingernails! That stuff takes time and dedication, you know. I did however tackle a giant pile of Things that have been vexing me with their presence for a month and a half now and now the pile is gone. So, small victories. And I think it's time to watch New Girl and then maybe some reading in bed - said bible study fare and then Hex Hall? Which I just purchased with a belated birthday gift card that was totally unexpected but delightful. The library does not have that book! But I do, now. 

love YOU. are you so excited to be going home soon? 

xoxox

penelaotang

pass the zyrtec

Or something? I feel like it's allergy season, officially. Or else I'm tired from camping, or allergic to DST, or... We tried to release the butterflies today, but they wouldn't go. We got all four out, but then they just looked sad and unmoving and basically cold. Butterflysicles, and I didn't want to chance their death. So we packed them back up. I did however hold one on my finger for quite awhile. And they're way prettier as butterflies! no longer in their gremlin state.

So here are my pictures from the weekend. The good parts. Puppies are photographically inspiring, of course, as are lakes and docks and abandoned houses/tobacco barns/lonely chimneys in the woods. 

Six days until 35! And two days until the anniversary of my first date with J.Lo. What! Amazing AND true. For birthday, there will be fish tacos for dinner (they are the best EVER) and turtle cupcakes. (Flavor, not form.) Chocolate, caramel, oh my. 

Tell me how you're faring over there! after that long long bus ride to the next place. Without an ipod. But also without DST. Or, I hope, seasonal allergies! You'll also have to expound again on allergies because I feel like I missed a thread - I know you can't eat pork, but you can eat biscuits again?! Does that mean you could eat fish tacos, I ponder...  

pass the spatula

I need it to scrape my jaw off the floor re: your encounters. Casual brushes with sextrafficking! A DEAD BODY by the side of the road! I mean. Wow. Also I found the whole experience with this noncommunicative family bizarre and offputting, but then you soldiered through so well. And is that a cultural thing or maybe just a family-cultural thing to have this noninclusive approach to guests? I feel like it was just them. Because it sounds like in spite of the procedural differences abroad you've still encountered warmth and the effort to accommodate or welcome. Like that at least doesn't have to be lost in translation.

Aw, you're going home-home! It's settled! I'm sad not to see you but remain hopeful about our eventual meeting. And you'll back to your place and your people and seek a job and pack some boxes and chain yourself to the lot trees just as you should. Oh, and help aa move into her new abode!

Puppy has pretty much lost her fuzz and jelly legs, already. So, so fast it goes. But you know. Like children, you enjoy the stages and forgo lamenting the progression of time. So help me if I turn into that old lady who accosts the weary mom with the screaming toddler at Target and tells her to ENJOY EVERY SECOND of this beautiful misery. Puppy fuzz goes out the window, but so does waking up allnightlong. Squishy skin and a tiny form morph into a furry little girl who knows the drill and how awesome is she for that.

Also, at the moment, she's lying on my foot. I feel her heartbeat.

This morning I'm missing oldtestament Bible Study and a meeting because oh, K.Lo has the Death Cold. Of course she does. Just when J.Lo was getting over it. Please affix the IV of wine to my vein immediately. Yesterday she hid under a blanket on the couch all day and today it's a lot of sniffling and vocalized misery - "Mommy, I don't feel good." Um. I know. My sweet, sweet dear. And I know how much this particular virus-thing sucks, and I hate it for her. While at the same time battling my own selfishness/anxiety over the things I want/need to accomplish this week (articles, interview, agenda meeting, prep for CABIN CAMPING this weekend) and trying to trust it will all work out.

Sort of related, I'm wondering if I'm evolving into more of a morning person? - I loathe the actual waking up - so brutal, wretched and I fight it with every fiber of my being. But once over that hurdle I have this air of chutzpah over allthethings I might accomplish during the day. And then as the day wears on, I can practically see the battery/energy indicator over my head as it drains from green to red and by say, 9:30 p.m. I'm so done. Wall, hit. Battery, needs charging. Whereas in the past of my wholelife I feel like I was more productive in the afternoons, and said screw it both the morning and night. Hmm.

May you have a beautiful evening/day ahead ~
penelope

wish you were here

"That was so fun! Cool! Amazing!" said the kids.
"It was everything I hate about religion!" thought J.Lo.
"It was completely...racist," muttered Penelope.

And in fact it was all of those things. We went to "see some Christmas lights" Saturday night, caravan-ing with a group from church, to be followed by hot chocolate and soup at a friend's house. I didn't really know what to expect, imagined that maybe this one street in particular put up a lot of lights, in the manner of our old neighborhood. But after a winding, NASCAR-esque drive out to the Middle of Nowhere, Rural North Carolina, we arrived at what was unmistakably THE Christmas lights.

You pay a nominal fee to park and walk through the place. It really is a scene. Magical in many ways. Like who is inspired to create this lit-up world of lights and fountains and soap snow and display houses of Christmas kitsch. It's completely tacky but endearing in that way that all Christmas lights are, taken to an epic level.

Tacky, yes, but did it delight all the children? of course. Inflatable cartoon figures, bathing plastic Santas, random vampiric wisemen lurking in corners. Why not. And of course miniature trains are always awesome.

And of course it had its own particular flavor. Very, as almost anon so aptly noted via text, Redneck Christian.

Erm. Some might even say Scary Christian.

Not that they weren't direct in their signage. They say what they mean, they mean what they say.

And clearly a lot of effort and care goes into the storage and display of these items; a lot of this stuff has been around for a long time. Within the kitsch there were cool glimpses of history. 

Except when it wasn't cool, at all. There was a bunch of, um, artifacts mixed in that I can't even post. One is under the "Godweiser" display above, but the others were worse. Slave figurines, blackface art and the like. I mean, off the charts appalling, to the point where I laughed, but in that speechless, jaw on the floor way. Like wow, I know this existed and still exists. but wow. How - why - would you ever put it up for display? Here we are in 2012. The kids pass over this stuff for the most part, attracted to the shiny and flashy and friendly over the - what do you even call it? - propaganda? Everything that made me feel vaguely like this: 

Disgruntled. Extremely perturbed. 

Well anyway. Some Christmas in the future I imagine there will be questions about these matters and at that point mommy will give them an earful. Like there is a time and a place to talk about whether "murdering babies" is okay, but emblazoning the message atop a toy train is probably not one of them. Among other important matters of discretion. 

For now, it was what it was. Magical for the children. On the edge of insanity for the adults. I think these alien-eyed reindeer some it up best. 

And if you'd like to sponsor a tree to keep this show going, here's how!