Lisa's up in Green Bay right now at a New Kids on the Block concert with some friends, which means I had to (gasp!) parent on my own for a night, shuffling the kids to and from school and dance class. The big test will be tomorrow morning. Lisa won't get in until the middle of the night, and will be out of commission for the morning prep-for-school rituals. And I am not a functioning human being at 6:30 A.M.
Speaking of the New Kids, they are embarking on another tour over the summer (or an extension of this one, take your pick) and you'll no doubt hear us yak about them again in the coming months.
BTW, their song Two in the Morning won a KISS Combat Challenge on the radio here. And it's 2009. Wow. Whodathunkit back in 1990?
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True story: YaYa and I were dispatched by my Mom to pick up my father from a local church(not my own). When I asked for my Dad by name a woman got an odd look on her face, then came up and offered me her hand.
"I thought I recognized your picture from the paper, and that name is hard to forget. You were in the Journal a few days ago, weren't you? The article on snow. Oh, I thought that was dead on. I LOVED it. Are you writing anything else?" The woman wasn't 'meet the rock star' giddy, but she was reaching the 'meet the smooth jazz star' plateau.
I swear to you, I thought it was a candid camera moment and that my Dad set me up. But no, I guess she was legit. It was the only 'out of the blue' congrats, but I've had a few from people that vaguely know me (or of me), some of which had very sweet things to say.*
Anyway, what's that old anecdote about Caesar having someone whisper 'fame is fleeting' in his ear? You could tell YaYa was proud, but she's old enough now to treat such feelings towards her parents as 'uncool'. Here's her official take on it: "I hope you don't think you're famous now. Cuz, uh, you're not."
*Meanwhile a family member flat out said they didn't like it, and you know what? I appreciate their honesty.
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I burned my right ring finger last night cooking some Ramen noodles. I always do this idioticly macho 'shake it for a moment, swear, continue on as if nothing happened' routine when I burn myself. Most of the time I refuse to even run it under cold water, but this sucker hurt and blistered up. I all but teleported to the sink. Dang near ruined my viewing of the Match Game, it did.
Memo to college grad: don't grab a metal serving spoon if it's been laying on the hot stovetop for ten minutes.
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