I Am That Idiot

alternative title: My Ass Is Damp

A few weeks ago, Hot Guy put air in my tires (not a euphemism). He also left my car window open. Naturally it poured that night. Towels soaked up the surface puddle, but they did jack for the deep wet that rooted itself in the upholstery.

My ass was damp for three days. Hopefully you have no idea how uncomfortable that is.

This is what my ass looks like. In my head. Or 1996. Whatever. 

When I mentioned it to Hot Guy, he claimed that he did it to himself all the time. He seemed confused by how bothered I was. Of course, he was probably hoping that I'd just shut up about it. But all I could think was:

"My ass is damp, motherfucker!"

Also: "What kind of idiot does this more than once?"

You know where this is going.

Yesterday at the Y, I left my car window open. And it rained like hell while we were inside. Since I spent all of my time in the basement and in the pool area, I had no clue. Until we got back to the car, anyway.

My ass was damp.

Again.

And this time I didn't even get my tires inflated. (This all sounds kind of dirty, doesn't it?)

Random Babbling

I am writing this through my Internet Explorer browser. I can't remember the last time I used Internet Explorer; everything looks really weird this way. But for the last few days I haven't been able to get to Blogger through my Chrome browser.

I am now remembering why I originally left Blogger.

Anyway, that's why I didn't blog on Wednesday. I spent all my writing time trying to figure out what the heck was going on.

I am considering trying Wordpress again for The Reading Bitch Blog, which I swear is going to happen.

This post kinda sucks, doesn't it?

I am so far behind on writing, I don't know what I am thinking by starting another blog. My goal is to somehow get caught up this weekend. But not on Saturday because we've got stuff going on then.

Always so much stuff going on.

Recently I looked into whether our family could join the Peace Corps. I think it's all those pictures my cousin keeps posting about homeschooling in Hawaii. Not that they're looking for Peace Corps volunteers in Hawaii. As far as I can tell, they're not really recruiting people to move to Hawaii.

We are also on Day 3 of rain around here and I think it's starting to get to me. And my allergies. In light of this post about nothing and the fact that I missed Wordless Wednesday, I give you this:

At least fall is pretty, right?

Our Camping Adventure (Sort Of)

It's not that I don't enjoy the outdoors, it's that I don't enjoy going to the bathroom in the outdoors. That's my excuse for avoiding camping for the first 41 years of my life.

Well, there was also that time at Girl Scout Camp, where we stayed in a cabin, but it was wet and drippy and clique-y and scary. Plus, years of 1980's horror movie viewings assured me that the serial killer would go after me first in a camping situation. And there always seemed to be a camping situation in those movies.

But mostly, it was the bathroom issue.

Hot Guy assured me that we would stay in place with a bathroom building. But if I have to walk more than 10 feet? And share it with other people? Almost as bad as no bathroom at all. But Ironflower REALLY wanted to go camping.

And then Lovebug REALLY wanted to go camping.

And Hot Guy has been wanting to go camping for years, because he used to be really into camping.

Then our friend Scott  gave us a whole bunch of lovely camping gear.

So we went to a campground in Harriman State Park. Which, according to the website, is half an hour from our house.*

Things started off auspiciously.

 Our campsite. Pretty, huh?

View from my camp chair. Hot Guy and kids doing campy set up stuff. 

I only had to help a little bit with set up. Which was good, because one of my other prejudices against camping was that, well, it seems like a lot of work. But Hot Guy enjoys that work, so it all worked out. He and the kids even got a great fire going.

Then the thunderstorm came. Now, we knew there were supposed to be some random thunderstorms and Hot Guy had already put the rain thingy over the tent. So we sent the kids into the tent, finished cooking our hot dogs and hamburgers, and ate inside the tent. 

That part wasn't so bad. The kids were so happy that we weren't forcing vegetables on them that they were pretty cheerful. Especially since the rain thing worked so well. Also, we let them play with electronic devices after dinner. That's always popular. 

Finally the rain stopped and the big kids came out to make s'mores. HugMonkey refused to leave the tent as soon as the storm started, but he did consent to standing in the opening to eat a s'mores. Lovebug decided he didn't like the dark, or the wet, or something, and also returned to the tent. Ironflower, for all her desire for camping, did not want to go to the bathroom building. So I showed her how girls can pee outside, but that necessitated a clothing change which turned into a decision to stay in the tent. 

When it started raining again, Hot Guy and I also gave up. After trying to let the kids tell ghost stories which all seemed to revolve around poop, we all went to sleep. I figured the rain would stop soon, as we weren't supposed to get torrents of rain or anything. Naturally I was totally wrong. I woke up a few hours later because there was water dripping on my face. 

I slid closer to Hot Guy and watched as Ironflower also woke up. She seemed to be okay, just awake. Then Lovebug burst into tears. He was soaking wet. Our rain thingy had failed and the tent was leaking. It was pouring rain, so we knew it would only get worse. So we put on our wet shoes (they had been piled near a leaky spot) and ran for the car. 

We got home at 3:30 in the morning. We were back at the site by 11am, cleaning up our sodden tent. Hot Guy and I were too exhausted to contemplate doing the activities we'd planned for Saturday and the kids were too tired to protest. 

But we're going to try again. We'll be a bit more prepared next time. And we'll put a tarp over the rain thingy, just in case. 

And then I get a vacation in hotel. 

*The website lied, BTW. It also gave us bad directions (which I had actually copied accurately). Fortunately a nice man took pity on us and gave us good directions. The campground is an hour from our house. The ladies in the camping office were impressed that it only took us a few tries to get there. 

Tinkerbell, Registration, and Danielle

I feel like I've been busy, even though I don't seem to have accomplished anything lately. Well, the kids are alive - I suppose that's something, right? Anyway, here are the thoughts I've been too busy (or lazy) to turn into posts lately. . .

1. Even though I hate the character Tinkerbell in Peter Pan, I'm so glad Ironflower is now into the whole Disney Fairies thing, instead of the whole Disney Princess thing. The fairies actually do things and have talents, whereas those princesses just wait around to be rescued. I would totally rather have magic powers than beauty.

2. Yesterday's soft, misty rain made me miss the Pacific Northwest. Today's steady downpour makes me want to kick things. Also, what the hell, weather? Why am I wearing long pants in August?

3. Shrek the Musical really is awesome. We listened to the soundtrack yesterday - I forgot how truly good a lot of the songs are. The whole thing is so, so much better than the movie. I wish we could take the kids again.

4. Whoever put up the Twitter link that led me to Ebay deserves to be slapped. I am not to be trusted on Ebay. I'm not buying things, I just keeping looking at stuff I could be buying. I won't bid more than $2, except for the Tinkerbell costume that got me there in the first place. Because otherwise outfitting Ironflower in her desired Halloween costume will cost like $60. Still, it's hard not bidding $60 for 4 Yankees tickets.

5. Signed Ironflower and Lovebug up for classes at the Y. Instead of doing it online or whenever, there is a huge gathering where people get numbers and then you wait anxiously for your turn, hoping classes are still available. I was warned that I should go early. I got there an hour early and ran into our former neighbor. She had gotten there 3 hours early and had gotten number 3. I was 87. The whole process took 2 hours. Reminded me of my first college registration back in the dark ages. And by the time I'd graduated in 1993 we were registering by phone, at least.

6. My kids seem really hyper and crazy unless I've forced them to go outside (in which case they are mellow and quiet) or let them watch TV. Thinking of putting a tent over the patio and putting a TV out there until school starts. Seriously. If my boys don't stop shrieking and yelling about every little thing I'm going to start wearing ear plugs.

7. I feel kinda sorry for Danielle Staub, even though she is a loony bitch who would never talk to me. (If you don't know who I'm talking about, uh, don't worry about it. Your TV viewing tastes are more highbrow than mine). I feel more sorry for her daughters, of course. But she's just so obviously crazy and you can just see how badly she wanted to be accepted by the "popular girls". And if she thinks the Manzos are bad, she should totally go hang out with Jill Zarin and Kelly Bensimon. Or that British chick on D.C.