Hey…

I read somewhere thanks to a friend that the best way to “blog” is to write as though you (I) are (am) writing to just one person. I have to say I agree. According to my blog stats, I have been writing for just one person. Literally, four (4) people have looked at my posts in the last 48 hours. Four people. I’d like to thank Murphy and my sons for stopping by on separate occasions and reading my posts; the most popular three of which are the one about the Amish, the times I peed on a pregnancy test stick and my rant about parents thinking it’s funny to make jokes to or in spite of their kids about their drinking. I’ve got only two spam comments for the past week. JUST TWO?!?

I am nigh invisible to the internets!

Writings from me have been so sparse (because it has been the end of the year at school) and it has been absolutely crazy for me. Last week, I wrote to tell you why I hadn’t been writing in the previous two weeks.

End of the year.

Omaigaaad.

End-of-year parties, end-of-year gifts, end-of-year celebrations, end-of-year meetings, end-of-year transitions, end-of-year ends x 3 and then add in the end-of-year stuff for the rowing club I’m taking over and the fact that I’d like to use the toilet every few hours without much delay and I’m sorta … baked.

The last time I posted was more than a week ago; I actually had no idea this time of year would be quite so insane this year, but the difference lays in our busy personal schedule: we’ve had 200% more house guests, there is a huge amount of things happening up at the school, and there was ton of rain here for a few days:

This is my yard after the flash flooding:

Monday I helped out at Thing 2’s exclusive Field Day.

The whole Field Day event was moved indoors because of the threat of more rain, but because I was running the water games I got to stay away from it all and was out in the open air. I’m sure it has nothing to do with my dazzling personality. I was pretty psyched because who wants to be in a gymnasium with a bunch of sweaty 11-13 y.o.s? “NOT I” said the cat.

The next day was Tuesday, and I needed a nap. So I took one. Then I went to a meeting that got all effed up because people didn’t show I will stop talking about right now.

Wednesday, I did this:

Within 30 minutes of my return home from that, I had to shower and show up on time to watch Thing 2 in “Suessical” where he was Cat in the Hat #2:

All the while, for the past week, the hot tub is doing this:

So the hot tub has become a major distraction; and not always in the best of ways.

First, the hot tub guys are … idiots. The “Cheat Sheet” from the dealer says to use X amount of chemical per X number of gallons per each use and the humans say to use 1/3 that amount of chemical per person regardless of the gallons (total tub volume / capacity) of water being moved through the filters. So it clouded up. Like… in no time. And no one knew why. Also, the sheet explicitly says to use Bippity Boo Solution (ok, not actually “Bippity Boo” but that doesn’t matter because the brand they cite on the cheat sheet isn’t the brand they gave us when they delivered the tub). So… I may as well be pouring milk and Cap’n Crunch in the tub and I know I’d be a hell of a lot happier.

Perhaps this will explain it:

And so then I decided to call the actual administrative office and the gal who answered didn’t want to talk to me, she wanted me to talk to the guys who sold it to me and I said “No, they are jackholes.” (“Jackholes” is a new fun word for me. I know: 1995 called and it wants it back, but I like it so I’m personally reviving its use.)

So the administrative gal and I went over the massive confusion that the brand they sold was not discussed on the sheet they provided… (being in corporate communications and brand management, that’s what we call a NO-NO) and she instructed me to pull the filters, spray them with degreaser and whatnot, shock the tub, wait three hours, clean the filters again and then, THEN do a full rosary and 17 psalms, sacrifice a disgusting left sneaker that’s soaked in sea kelp while wearing a Cat-in-the-Hat hat and eating a bowl of Cap’n Crunch and then beg for it to work. Keep in mind, we’d only had the tub for 20 days and used it maybe 15 of those days. Here are the filters:

So I did what she told me to do, which took almost six hours and three days later it was gorgeous again (and so was the weather) and not creepy green (plus I stopped putting Cap’n Crunch in it) .

But that wasn’t enough.

My week wasn’t over. I was under pressure because I was having a party to welcome all the incoming and returning rowing coaches and club officers because the season ended with some pinched feelings. So to prepare, I did it: I cut the tags off my cushions:

And I worked all day Friday and set up for the party and have everything be nice and clean and inviting… And by the time I was done preparing my deck looked like this:

Then on Saturday, I brought this to T2’s Father’s Day All-Star soccer tournament because I thought I’d have time to read:

But their standing was good enough for us to rally at 9:00 today to play the third game, which they lost. Here they are early doing drills.

This game… this game was SO good. It was fantastic. But we won’t play for that head coach anymore; he got so frustrated during the second half he said to my son and some other players, “I want to win this game, so I’m keeping you out and putting the better players in.”

Uhhhh… WHO SAYS THAT TO 12-YEAR-OLDS who were INVITED to play in the tournament?! I know who, but I won’t say. But that was the last time I’m ever letting ANY of my kids play for him. He has shown me who he is many times before, but I have sit back and let my kids play for him; no more. The man has no character. OOOOOOooooh, I’ll tell you this: He told a party full of his players and their parents and sibs at an end-of-season event that even though his son made a travel soccer team that he was going to stay with the team he was with for the following season because he made a commitment for the entire year; it didn’t matter. And his son would play for the same team too. Three months later, guess who’s gone? And guess who took half the players with him? This dbag coach. My husband knew better, he asked me if I was OK with T2 playing for him and I said, “this is your gig; you expose the boys to these things as you see fit, as long as he wants him, it’s up to you…” and then he said what he did to T2 and his fellow players this morning. Shameful.

Then we had Father’s Day. It was fun. I made lasagne. And I want to end the post with two things: 1) my Facebook status about my own dad:

It may have not have been the easiest lesson to teach me or for me to learn, but my father taught me the importance of sobriety; the meaning of candor; the necessity of a sense of humor; the value of ambition and drive; and the worth of a moment of repose. You can never unring a bell, but you can always “sleep on it and see how you feel about it in the morning.” Thanks, Dad.

and 2) my plans for the next 30 days:

I’m launching a new blog series tomorrow to get me back on track — “30 Days of Jung” where I will take 30 of my most favorite Carl Jung quotes and wax intellectual or mindful or sarcastic or Cap’n Crunch or hot tub or comedic about them… who knows, but I love Jung and I also love to hate him.

I need a challenge like this to keep me on my toes. I need it to keep me writing. Things have been so crazy, I’ve just stopped writing and that’s not good at all. I also plan to get back into the fiction too, so if you’ve been following that, I will post this week for sure.

Now I can exhale!

Thank you.

ps — behold: the carbMonkey: