Today I have: sent out a resume and writing sample to another prospective employer (this time someone who is looking for a freelancer); gone to two markets in preparation for our camping trip this weekend; forgotten to get bread and beer, despite being in two aforesaid markets; stopped off at the party store to get dinosaur figurines to put on top of my nephew's birthday cake; made several trips from garage to 5th floor apartment, unloading all groceries, etc.; diced and boiled 4 pounds of potatoes to make potato salad; disemboweled a watermelon, cantaloupe, and two mangoes; sent an e-mail update to my charter school/pro bono work contact; and had a phone conversation with another potential freelance client. On top of all that, I still have to bake the cake for my nephew*, to bring with us on the camping trip, and I haven't had any coffee yet.
* My darling Matt Man, who just turned 7:
SEVEN! Next thing you know, he'll be driving!
How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love Viva's Teacher
Viva's teacher, who I will refer to here as Miss Svetlana, though that is not her real name, hails from Russia. She is a big-boned gal, middle-aged (whatever that means these days), has a charming accent, and light brown hair teased up into not-quite-a-bouffant. The most important thing for you to know, though, is that Miss Svetlana is FAB.U.LUSS.
Example: the other day when I dropped Viva off, Miss Svetlana arrived wearing a royal blue dress with a sailor collar, and carrying a matching blue handbag with anchors embroidered all over it. Clearly, she had the nautical theme going on. She also always wears heels, despite dealing with 2-year-olds all day. How hot is she???
But the thing I adore is that yesterday, when I walked into class to pick Viva up, everyone was dancing. Yes, including Miss Svetlana. She was getting down with her funky self to some kids' tunes, and she was really diggin' it. She said to me, "Oh, Viva loves to dance! As soon as I turn on the music, she take off dancing!" I am well aware of Viva's love of the dance, so this was not surprising, but what I was touched to see was that this morning, when I dropped Viva off, Miss Svetlana mentioned it again, and turned on the music so they could dance together. I forgot to mention that Miss Svetlana was today wearing a bright yellow top and a black and yellow skirt. Viva was the first kid to arrive today, so it was just the two of them. When I left, I turned back and saw through the window this tiny little kid, grinning and leaping about with abandon, and a giant bumblebee with a helmet of hair, shaking her groove thing, shaking her groove thing, yeah, yeah.
Bumper Sticker Alert
Seen this week: FIGHT ERRORISM
And, on the back of a pickup: YES! THIS IS MY TRUCK! NO! I WON'T HELP YOU MOVE!
Out of Gas
I recently spent $36.31 to fill up my gas tank, at $2.93/gallon. Well, we knew it was coming, but a few days later I was driving north on La Brea Boulevard and I saw this at the Chevron station at Beverly and La Brea: $2.93/regular, $3.03/plus, and $3.11/premium. My heart palpitated wildly, because, you see, my car "requires" premium. Which means I am now paying well over $3 a gallon to fuel up and run around town doing whatever the hell it is that I do.
Why are all the hybrid cars either (a) too small for anyone with children, or (2) cars that I have no interest in driving? I drove the Ford Escape as a rental while in Boston a while back, and I have to say I was underwhelmed. I would like to be somewhat environmentally responsible, and it makes me depressed, until I remember something my old friend George once said to me: "Ah, the environment -- what's it done for me lately?"
I gotta go bake that cake. Have a lovely weekend!