I used to think that Chick tracts were fun, but I now see them as racist hate literature.

They're fun racist hate literature!

(Seriously, though, I'm with you. On the one hand, I can read them and shake my head and laugh at how over the top CRAXY they are, and then I remember that there are people out there taking them seriously and I get very, very sad and frightened.)

Oh, DJ, I've been coveting that HK guitar forever. The Sanrio in my mall has it on display along with the Bad Badtz bass. I also need this crock pot!!!! [link]

ACK. Big Boss wasn't in her office. I left her a note, but no response. Guess I'll be tackling this question tomorrow. Thanks for the ~ma!

All kinds of ~ma for tomorrow, Kristin!

I've been asked if I would be willing to teach a fifth class next year (the normal load is four).

Really? Four? A normal load here is 5 and some teachers have 6, for which they get paid extra for the extra class. I don't know how much extra, though. A friend of mine said it ended up being about $45 per paycheck (every two weeks). Not worth it IMO.

This has to be the most absurd Chick tract ever:

Think you have bad family experiences at Thanksgiving?

I remember the Chick Tracts from one of the Southern Baptist churches I went to. Specifically the Dungeons and Dragons one, I always thought it was funny.

Got home to a letter from the oral surgeon. I have 2 pre surgery appointments (one for a physical w/my primary care and 1 with post op instructions and prescriptions) made for me (luckily I think I can use my lunch break for these) and my actual surgery is at 4 pm so maybe I can go into work for the morning.

And I have to call the oral surgeon and figure out exactly how much I'm going to end up owing them. I just looked at my benefits again and while the dental insurance will cover 80% they have a calendar year max of $750, which I'm totally going to meet.

I'm slightly freaking out about all of this but it will work out.

I have a story which I will be torturing Mr. Jane with forever, and which I will share with you now.

I walk in the door from work and take about 5 steps inside. I'm almost instantly greeted with, "WHAT IS THIS!?! WHAT DID YOU DRAG INSIDE!?! THERE IS SAND EVERYWHERE" Since it was just me and my purse, I look mostly confused. "Uhm. Me," says I. "No! There's sand everywhere! Check your purse!" So I do. Nothing. "Well what could it be!?!" I tell him I have no idea, as I have just walked in the door.

A few minutes later, I've changed out of work clothes, and I'm picking up. Finding crap that the dog has chewed, and I think "Hey I was sewing last night! Maybe it was my pincushion!" But, I look and the pincushion is still intact. "Hmm," says I out loud, "I thought it might be.." Mr. Jane inturrupt me to say, "Maybe it was that bag of sand."

o^0 goes I.

No. He will never live this down.

My doctor doesn't think I have a stress fracture, but my coach still suspects I do since my symptoms sound like his when he had one. He told me to rest for the next couple days, and on Saturday, I'll try to run with a slower pace group and stop if it hurts too much. I don't think I'll be able to make it very far, but I guess if he allows me to try, I'll give it a shot. And then I'll cry and scream for sucking.

happy birthday Owen!

happy Joyous Teas!

Stupid plant sex - I have a sinus headache - which only appeared as I walked out in the wind. bah.

Oh, Zen, I'm sorry. Glad for the surfacing, but a serious depression with its sluggishness and paralysis is so miserable. Have you been hit by it before, or is it new? At least you've got no shortage of sympathetic and empathetic company 'round here.

Thank you, JZ. It isn't new; but somehow it always sneaks up on me and I never realize what's happening until I'm too already depressed to stop it. Somehow I need to work out a "early alert" system. The sympathetic company is a boon, believe me. Even if I don't talk about it, it's good to know there are people around who understand.

Happy birthday to Owen! Happy moving-in to Biyi and billytea!

Shin~ma for P-C! Good grief, stop hurting yourself.

I used to think that Chick tracts were fun, but I now see them as racist hate literature.

This. They scare me. Bad memories. Bad vibes.

In allergy news, I have been unable to breathe without the aid of stupifying medication for three days. Now the effectiveness of said meds is starting to wear off. This needs to stop now. I wonder if I'm experiencing the dreaded "rebound effect" from the spray decongestant?