As If The Box Set of Buffy DVDs Isn't Plenty Incriminating

Unexpectedly excited for school to start. The smell of pencils; the anger of the instructional staff; the rush hour.
I'm trying to get all my bad words out before the students start on Tuesday, so I spent my commute shouting at other drivers. Possibly aided by NPR's constant discussion of
1. the down-turned economy
2. politics: the Presidential race.
Snoozefest, you guys. I want more book reviews*
I'm about to start reading Twilight. For bookclub! And Banner of Heaven, because it makes us feel better about reading Twilight as grown ups.

*Something simple. Book review of Water for Elephants: This book is frigging great. Barely even about animals at all. Get it.

The Boat Captain

Hello. How did I almost forget to show you this?

(Edited to add: On the Whitefish Chain of Lakes -- a weekend with the Blum Family Robinson in a rather "rustic" cabin. Here, in a fancy rented boat, floating, lost.)

Walgreen's, Aisle 4C

I stumbled upon a "first feminine products" discussion last night.
The Girlwoman is hair-in-the-face mortified while the Momwoman attempts to discuss how to prevent night leakage. She hisses all of her words:
"Please! People can hear you."
"Well there are some who need a little extra protection while they sleep."
"Ohgodmom. Just shhh! I don't care. Let's go."
"She's not even listening."
But I was, of course. I always am. Especially if it's somebody else's embarrassment.
Which brings me to: water skiing, whose ass I totally kicked this weekend for about 30 seconds! Nobody with a video camera to document! It was awesome! And then there was the aftermath. A terreeble pain in my focking ash.

Nine years. No whammies.

Today was our nine year dateaversary!
What have you done with your life? Am I right?
Eventually I'm going to find a photo of Matt that makes him look like a hobo, just to be fair.
I stalled dinner as long as I could to watch one Michael Phelps swim like a butterfly for 200 m, then we celebrated all of our victories at the delicious 112 eatery.
Victories: (moral) not succumbing to gladiator sandals, (mental) big multiplication without pencils or calculators, (financial) possibly buying a photography studio, (naval) I have a naval
Later, Matt asked the oven to clean itself.
Outcomes: one fire alarm, zero clean ovens.

Straight Thuggin'

I need to see Step Up 2: The Streets. My students expect something of me, along the lines of urban cultural competency, and I am not one to disappoint. In that realm.
Somebody better stick up a chubby white arm and volunteer to view it with me.
Also, can we talk about irrational anger? Because aren't these things somehow related without needing transition? Meh?
I find myself swearing at people in traffic more than is becoming to a lady of my station. Today, por ejemplo, some assface motioned for me to walk across the street. Stops in the middle of the street to motion me across. No, no, I waved. It's your turn. He motioned me AGAIN, at which point I threw up my hands and started walking. Give me a break, Passive Aggressive Minnesota. Don't do me any favors so you can drive away calling me the b word in your brain.
That same volunteer mightshould reach over and turn up the Christian radio station for me to drown out my foul mouth.

Just this:

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