I Wanna Medal

I deserve a medal. Really.

I live in a large city, home of the state's 4th largest public school district, and home to a Major University. MU has a deal with the city: any student who maintains a certain high school average and scores well on the PSATs is guaranteed admittance to MU -- and there may be financial aid available. Several of Y-Chromo's older friends have taken advantage of this marvelous program, two of whom have a free ride at MU--which is no slouch of a school.

Naturally, TV & I signed up Y-Chromo for the Challenge. And since we first did this, when Y-Chromo was in eighth grade, he's changed his mind and now wants to attend MU. A win-win situation all around, yes?

Well, maybe not.

Several weeks ago, Middle School held High School night, and as X-Chromo is in 8th grade, we attended. I spoke to the rep from MU about how great the "Challenge" program is. She laughed and said, "You must be getting sick of all the mail we send you."

I said, "Huh?"

She gave me her business card. I spent the next several days phoning and e-mailing her to make sure Y-Chromo was actually enrolled in the program. I also had Y-Chromo bug his Guidance Councilor. As his GC later said, we opened Pandora's Box.

Last week, I was told that due to a computer "glitch", none of the students from Y-Chromo's class at his middle school were enrolled in the Challenge, but that was being corrected. Oh boy.

An hour ago, I met with X-Chromo's middle school GC (who was also Y-Chromo's middle school GC), who told me that I had been misinformed. None of the students in the entire school district from Y-Chromo's year and the following year had been enrolled in the program because of the computer "glitch."

Theoretically, my paranoia rectified the situation. Except I still haven't received any mail confirming this.

The first piece should be my medal.

Laughter IS The Best Medicine

I am currently doing something called Destination Transformation , which is designed to help one develop a more positive outlook on life. It's simple stuff. I'm enjoying the journey. Several of my friends are also on the journey, and another has already finished her 40 days . . . and started over.

On Day 11, I read that "children laugh an average of 100 times a day, whereas adults laugh an average of 14 times a day." Part of that day's assignment is to write down a few things that have made you laugh over the last month.

What an easy assignment! Every time I get together with my friends, we laugh. No lady-like tee-hees, civilized chuckles, or silly giggles for us. I'm talking deep belly laughs, the tears-rolling-down-my-face-oops-I-shoulda-worn-a-Depends kind of laughter that leaves your abs sore for a week (Okay, so I'm out of shape).

During our Annual Purple MLK Weekend Retreat, the audio mix was about 45 percent silence (and the clacking of AlphaSmart or laptop keys) and 45 percent laughter. (The other 10 percent was the sound of consumption -- food, wine, root beer floats, more food . . . ) I think our laughter fueled our amazing productivity.

Except for DGF, who, true to her name, ran around taking care of business. But it was SO fine to see her!

P/K/A Blogger Queen-a-Athena gathered a couple of Purple Roses (my RWA chapter's shorthand for 20 pages a day).

Braveheart Barbie battled her way through massive amounts of revisions

And The Purple Cactus dropped in for a MST3K version of DUEL OF HEARTS, a treat she and I have promised ourselves since the RWA National Conference in Washington, DC -- July 2000. You want to talk about laughter?

We discussed how simple it was for us to note what had made us laugh in the past month . . . even the past week. Whenever we get together, we laugh. Maybe that's why we're enjoying our Destination Transformation so very much: we understand and practice the art of laughter.

Let It Snow

Oh. . . the weather outside is frightful . . .
Yes, it's finally winter in upstate New York. Many people thought we'd luck out this season and skip the white stuff. I've worn sandals on my feet as recently as Saturday. Global warming? Who knows. But I woke up this morning to inches and inches of cold white stuff. The Chromos had school, but after school activities were cancelled. Religious Ed this evening was also cancelled. Which means I can't get together with my friend Kris (p/k/a The Queen-a-Athena) for our weekly Wednesday Write Night.

It also means no firetrucks will try to run me off the road.

The snow is supposed to be gone by the weekend, when my Purple friends and I are holing up in a local hotel for our annual MLK weekend writing retreat. More often than not, there's substantial snow that weekend. We've planned our menus and planned our movies. I still have to grocery shop and pack.

My Purple friend, The Demented Guinea Fowl, who recently moved away, is supposed to come back for the weekend. I can't wait to see her!

Great friends, great food, my laptop, my mp3 player, and my imagination. Life doesn't get much better than that. And I am blessed because I have so many of these wonderful moments.

Right of Way

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned a run-in I had with a firetruck and a one-way street (Blog: In Thy Dark Streets Shineth). My dad asked several of his acquaintances about the situation, and received 2 answers.

The city police officer said that legally, I had the right of way, as I was on a one-way street; however, no city police officer would back me up, because no matter what, they side with the fire department. It's an old-boys network. He also expressed annoyance because the fire department is always trying to get away with doing illegal things.

Two city fire fighters (both captains) told my father that I was definitely in the wrong, that fire trucks have the right of way regardless. The reason the truck boxed me in and blew its horn was to force the other vehicles around me to move so I could move so they could drive the wrong way down a one-way street.

Now, in the time that the truck blocked the intersection and blew its horn and sounded its siren, it could have driven one more block and turned in the correct direction on another one-way street.

But what do I know? I'm just an unemployed author.