We watched an ep of Charmed to kill some time before AI, and here's our exchange:
Tb: who made this show?
C: Aaron Spelling. The same guy that did 90210 and many many others...
Tb: when was it on TV?
C: About the same time as buffy. Longer, even.
Tb: Cause it looks a lot like buffy, even the credits. But it sucks so much. It's like Buffy, but BAD. I can't figure it out.
C: Neither can I, boy.
I love that my kid has such, to quote Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel, discriminatin’ tastes, even if his spending Wednesday nights with his dad forces him to endure such things as American Idol and America’s Next Top Model. Said The Boy when I picked him up for school on a Thursday morning not too long ago: “Stylista is over, thank GOD.” “Oh? Who won?” “WHO CARES?” That’s my boy. I think he got off easy with an evening ofCharmed.
I started my volunteer work at my friend’s library last night, and I think it might be just the thing to beef up my resume so I can get a real job soon. It went well, I think. The library is easy to get to, has free parking, and the people I’ll be working with are pleasant and friendly—and glad to have free help.
I came home from the library, ate some dinner, read through some blogs, and then planned to soak in a hot bath and start reading The Last Chinese Chef, which my friend K sent me for my birthday. Imagine my disappointment, though, when I stepped into the bubbles (which smelled like spiced chocolate, thanks to a Christmas gift from my friend S who indulges me despite her horror at the notion of taking a bath and “soaking in your own filth”) and discovered that THE WATER WAS COLD. Yes, I only dipped one foot into the water, but I was naked and it was COLD.
The plumber is coming today to see what’s up with the water heater, but I wasn’t able to take a shower this morning. I wasn’t especially dirty, but I did wake up with severe bed head, which could only be defeated by a generous soaking. Too lazy to warm up a bowl of water in the microwave, I plunged my head into the cold water coming out of the tub’s spout, and that was that. You’d think that would wake you up, but you’d be wrong. I haven’t had my shower, and feel like I should go right back to bed. I look normal, but I feel like a sleepy slob.
A sleepy slob who gets to leave work early this afternoon to take The Boy to see the eye specialists at Children’s Hospital. Remember the sty that had me singing like Hank Williams, back in October? Well, it didn’t go away with doctor-advised hot compresses, nor did prescription anti-biotic salve (such a gross word) make it go away. We saw the doctor about it yet again to finally have her tell us to go to the actual pediatric eye people. Finally. I can’t wait to see the last of that thing, and neither can The Boy.
And then tomorrow is Friday. Beautiful, glorious Friday! I know this has been a short week, thanks to the Martin Luther King holiday, but it feels like it’s taken forever. I can’t wait to sleep in Saturday morning. Hopefully, after I’ve taken a nice, hot, bubble bath.
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