Don't Let the Pigeon...

What is it about the mildly obscure reference that makes it so much more amusing? You know the jokes I mean, the ones that make you laugh, not only because of the humor behind them, but because of the feeling that you're one of only a certain group who will truly "get" the joke.

I used to think there was a bit of elitism to it, "I'm one of this group, you're not, ha ha," but as I get older, I believe it's not the EX-clusion of others, but the IN-clusion of the group that makes it all the more fun.

These references take on two similar, yet different, forms: the popular/public culture form, and the "I get it because I was there" form.

We turned off the cable TV around here years ago, so, with a little help from Amazon, I only recently learned how to properly use "Bazinga" in a sentence. Luckily, a few years ago memes came along: they were quick, funny, and offered me some inclusion despite my busy schedule: parenthood and illness just didn't allow me to stay informed: Ain't nobody got time for that! (sorry, had to be done... Harold, Heather, there's your shout-out.)

Also, parenthood offers it's own culture. For example, I know who this guy is:

Do you know this guy? No? Well you can go look him up,
just like I have to do, on the actual, "hip" pop culture references...

Wait! Are things "hip," "cool," "boss," or something else, nowadays?

He's more important later...

Your References

Anyway, the "I get it because I was there" kind... I try to give that to you  guys. I make internal references and link to them... old posts, people, etc. I keep hoping this will inspire a cult following. It hasn't worked so much for me, but, from my stat counters I can tell that the MC (see labels on the right) had his own fan club for a time there.

I also notice my life sometimes runs in themes, so I try to share and label those for you, too. See how good I am to you people? Today, I'm even, once again, putting the laundry off for you!

You may have noticed, (no you didn't, who am I kidding?) that the newest label added to the group is "Pets and Animal Oddities". You may have believed that label originated in the recent Pre-Teen Titan or Hedgehog Harassment posts. (Oh dear God, somebody stop me I'm obsessed with linking!) 

Actually, the theme began a couple months ago with her:

You have to imagine her smaller and much scrawnier.

The Cat and The Cookies

This little creature started hanging out on my back porch in late November. I got tired of tripping over Sophie the Wonder Dog's food bowls, so I told the girls that we'd have to leave Sophie's food outside... which above creature took as an invitation to partake. I really didn't mind, she was so skinny, if she needed to eat, let her. I was sure Sophie would run her off, soon. Taking a note from B.B.'s reading homework, we started referring to her as Amelia Bedelia.

Why did you have to be there? On the second Sunday in December every year, we host our annual Cookie Party... an all-day affair. While once small, the Cookie Party now includes invites to all the theatre babies and their families, resulting in some 50 or so of our friends, adults and children, over the course of the day. We spend the early afternoon cutting out, baking and decorating cookies until the kids get bored (somewhere during the second batch) then spend the rest of the afternoon hanging out, chatting, kids playing, until early evening when we order pizzas for whomever is left. (This year we needed 8 pizzas.) 

The house is full; the atmosphere is insane. It's my very favorite day of the year! 

This is actually from one of the tamer parties from years past.
You get the idea...

Every year some private jokes emerge that last a month or two, some endure. Travis will never live down burning out my mixer one year. This year produced the Jonathan Action Figure, "This is Danny and He's a Free Agent." and The Cat That Invaded. 

See how sweet and timid that little face above looks? Not so. Every time the back door opened, she was trying to get in. 

"Kelly, is  your cat allowed in?"

"No, catch her, that's not my cat."

"Kelly, where did you get that pretty cat on the porch?"

"I don't know, that's not my cat. She just likes to hang out here."

"Why does B.B. call her 'Amelia'?"

"Uh, because that's what, I, uh,  named her."

Knowing look and nod. (I hate those!)

Around late afternoon, despite SIX people sitting around the kitchen table, she managed to GET ON TOP of said table and sample a little bit of the frosting from several bowls and the tops of several cookies remaining there. Heather spotted her, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and with definite prejudice, unceremoniously dumped her out the door.

"Kelly, your cat ruined all the leftovers."

"THAT'S NOT MY CAT!"

"Somebody needs to tell her that."

In the following weeks I got several queries as to how the "cat that was not mine" was doing. Har de har har.

At Christmas break, as we were leaving to go visit family, I warned the girls that she would likely be gone upon our return. Sophie would be traveling with us, and Sophie's absence would also mean the absence of Sophie's food; I told the girls I felt sure the cat would find another family, though. After all, she was agreeable and started purring the second a person picked her up... who wouldn't love her? I mean, I could manage not to love her... but others would fall prey to those sweet little, precious little charms... AHEM!

When we returned, I had to issue a Facebook release and eat my words:

Just in case anyone missed Miss G.'s contribution to the thread... see below.

Sigh. God (with Miss G.'s help) decided we needed a cat.

The Fish 

And with that little inch came the Hedgehog mile. I told P.D. a couple days ago that if she could save up and pay for it, along with all the supplies, she could have her beloved hedgehog. 

I forgot that Miss B.B. saves all her birthday money and had quite a stash in place. Enough to get a whole fish starter tank going. Enough that, in the interest of fairness, we tromped out to Walmart last night to get supplies to get the aquarium started and will be tromping out tonight to get the fish to live in it. 

B.B. initially wanted to put the fish in her room, but I put the kibosh on that. (Since I'm obviously so good at setting limits around here.) She complained, how would anyone know that they were HER fish?

Problem Solved!

The Joke's on Who?

It would seem the girls are fairly innocent in all this, wouldn't it? It would seem all these additions are happy accidents; who knew Danny and Miss G. would turn out to be such great allies? It might even seem that they don't realize the distress I would naturally feel at going from merely Sophie the Wonder Dog, to a soon-to-be-four-animal household.

Here's where you kind of have to be a parent and kind of have to be "in-on" the joke. As my girls, B.B. in particular, apparently are, and have been, "in-on" this joke the whole time. 

Yesterday, B.B. brought home her "Don't Let the Pigeon" assignment from her first grade class.

(Aside, to Miss J., as promised, lots and lots of pictures)

Aaaaah! and Texting with the MC

Okay, all of you who encouraged me and said I could do this grad school thing and be a single mom and hold a job/manage an internship: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!!!!

If you're guilty of this, please raise your hand...

(Looking up seeing hand) Oh, this was originally MY idea wasn't it? (Well, sort of)

I have 4 baskets of clean laundry still waiting to be folded... (Okay, so that's not really new).

I have a new shower curtain somewhere in this mess that once resembled our living space... if I could find it to put it up...

I have a passel of car-wash supplies I bought 2 weeks ago (not to mention a gently used wet/dry vac Daddy gave me 3 weeks ago) hoping I'd find an 2-hour window in which to attack Kermit...

My hair is longer than it's ever been... not because I want it long but because I can't find time to get it cut.

I have SERIOUS grad-school Senioritis...

I have children who are starting to forget what I look like...

Hopefully,  I'll remedy some of that this weekend. Then... between Monday, August 22 and Thanksgiving I'll have two (count them, 1, 2) of  sixteen weekends off until Thanksgiving. I will have eight (count them, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 6, 7, and 8) internship classes to attend from 6-9 pm on every other Thursday night. I will have clinic on Tuesdays, which means no getting home before 7 pm  on seventeen (count them 1, 2, 3... oh nevermind) Tuesdays in that period. Oh, and that doesn't even touch the HOMEWORK I'll be doing, the tests I'll have to take.

But then, I'll be DONE. At least with THIS chapter's struggles. MAN I want a cigarette, but I'm 3 months, 2 weeks and 11 hours smoke-free, so I can't even do THAT!!!

Speaking of done, I'm wrapping up this semester's paperwork this week. Part of that is my evaluation of the Master Counselor, (the MC) then his evaluation of me. As you may have guessed, every now and then, I have to remind Mr. OCD to take a breath to avoid a freak-out. Last night, I had class at 6, but 5:50 I hadn't heard from my babysitter and had to call for backup... knowing class had already begun while I waited. No pressure. To amuse myself, I texted the MC.

Me: What's that I'm always telling you to do? Breathe?

MC: Yes, what's up?

Me: Babysitter didn't show. Waiting for backup... I'm okay... Just not breathing. :-/

Later, in internship class, I got his reply:

MC: S--t happens! (yes, he put the dashes in... sometimes he chooses to show a semblence of tact)

Me: Be nice to me. I'm evaluating you as we speak.

MC: Ya but don't forget, I play a role role in your FINAL grade.

Me: Look here you old coot, you should be looking for grade HIGHER than an A to give to me for putting up with your S--t!

(Okay, so I didn't really send that last one, but I WANTED to.)

Blog Time I Didn't Want...Except...

I didn't plan to blog today. I had lots of plans for getting other things in my life accomplished... Except...

This week has been crazy hectic. To explain:

Prior to my tenure with him, and in all his brilliance, the Master Counselor devised a counseling program that is unique to Kentucky. I can't say more than that or risk revealing his identity. (If I told ya, I'd have to kill ya, mostly, because he'd kill me.) I am very impressed with said program... but I wasn't impressed with the forms for documentation. Well, I take that back... considering the difference between my technological experience and his, I was VERY impressed with the forms he created... they just needed a little tweaking for consistency's sake and to make them easier to edit later.

So, I set about creating a "style" for his documentation and redesigning the forms a bit...  it was just going to be something to piddle with when I had free-time between other assignments. I figured it would also benefit me in that I'd learn more about his program and real-world counseling documentation in the process.

Let me say something right here to further explain why this project is so important to me: The MC pays me even though he didn't have to. I need the hours and experience I get in his office in order to graduate.  He even pays me for the hours I spend observing while he counsels clients. To say I feel an extreme debt of gratitude to the MC is an understatement; this project represented my chance to bring something of real value to him.

The MC liked my initial work, but other chores needed to take precedence... until last Wednesday. On Wednesday morning he announced that a government agency (who shall also remain nameless) would be coming in one-week hence to inspect the program at the satellite office... and he wanted all his documentation forms and program introductions in the new style... (No pressure Kel, just do your thing! Gulp..)

So we've spent hours and hours editing, revising and revamping. I couldn't wait to see what the inspector would think of them... Except...

When I asked the MC Monday if I could observe the inspection he said he thought the fewer people present at the inspection, the better; and his partners in the program would be there as well. No big, except I really wanted to go. We spent yesterday at his satellite office and had a really good day, so (hoping in his good mood, he would change his mind) I asked again, and got the same answer. (Oh well, rats.) This morning I went in to his main office early to help him put the finishing touches on his files and et cetera before the meeting.

The MC looked at me and said, "I've been thinking, it must be really important to you to be present for that inspection to have asked me twice. If you can be quiet and defer ANY question they have to me, you can go." ... Except...

I looked down at the VERY casual t-shirt and blue jeans I was wearing and thanked him but told him no, I was really under-dresssed. (RATS! RATS! RATS! RATS! RATS!!!!) He left for his meeting at his satellite office at 11:00 this morning, and took all the files with him so I have the afternoon off. He's probably in the meeting right now. Those inspector folks will have no idea of all the hard work we put into those forms in the last week, and probably won't care how about how beautifully formatted they are... but the suspense is killing me just the same.

Meanwhile, back in school... I have a major take-home exam due for my second Assessment/Diagnosis class tomorrow afternoon. On Saturday, Dr. O. handed out the info-packets that included all the information we'd need to put together the Mock Diagnostic Report that would be our Final Exam. He was one info-packet short. Since I knew some of the others in my cohort wanted to start on their's right after class, I said no problem, I'm planning to head to my parents' house right after class and won't get started on it this weekend anyway, just email it to me and I'll print it out. I only half-jokingly said "email it NOW" to make sure I'd have it. Dr. O, said he couldn't at the moment, but assured me he'd email it as soon as he got home...  Since The MC turned me down on Monday and Tuesday, I planned to do it this afternoon... Except...

It's not there in my in-box. If I don't get an extension on this assignment I will kill him.

My other possible project I had planned for this afternoon was to get the laundry caught up again... Except...

Also on Saturday, I was ALMOST caught up on all the laundry, the washing part anyway. I only had one more load washing to go into the dryer; and one last load to go into the washer, so I asked my babysitter to put the load in the dryer and get the other load started in washer while I was in class... I'd put the last load in the dryer, catch up all the folding and putting away in a couple hours: the girls and I would head to P-town after that.

When I got home from class, the washer was full of water and not doing a thing. I ran upstairs and checked the breaker box: no problems. I checked the breaker on the power strip where the extension cord from the washer was plugged in, it was blown... yaay? No. Trying to turn on the washer blew it again. Sigh. Unplug the breaker, plug the extension cord directly into the wall... nothing. Check the breaker box again, no problems. Try the power strip again... nothing... but the light on the dehumidifier that was also plugged into the power strip was still on.

Call Daddy, see if he knows why I'd get this series of electrical indications. Daddy says he thinks my problem is not with the electricity but the washer itself. He also says, "I'll be there in a couple hours" (Daddy is 73 years old. He taught me tons and tons about home repair when I was growing up. He didn't NEED to drive 100 miles to look at my washer. I suspect he knew he didn't need to, but I also suspect it made him feel good to show me he loved me enough to drive 100 miles to look at my washer.)

Meanwhile, I keep checking everything out. I could hear the motor "start" to work, then stop. The tub would turn, but begrudgingly. Was there something down in between blocking it? I disassemble the whole cabinet so I can check, can't find anything, so I use my wet-dry vac to drain the water,  then put everything back together. (Mostly so Daddy can order me to take it apart again when he arrives.) Daddy gets here, we try this, we try that, we suspect the motor is toast but we don't know so I'll have to call a repairman...

I had work and class Monday, and a 12 hour workday yesterday... so said repairman couldn't come until today... and OF COURSE he'd have to order the motor: it will be in tomorrow. He also mentioned that washing machine motors often blow because the washers were plugged into extension cords and didn't get enough electricity to allow them to work properly. (Just like the way MINE is set up) Which I would remedy... Except...

There is no plug anywhere within reach of the only place in my house that I could possibly PUT the washing machine...  I wish Daddy had taught me how to be an electrician...

Oh well, I could still spend the afternoon folding some of that huge pile of clean clothes that still needs folding... Except...

I had to type this out for you. ;)

Stopping By for a Brief Catch-up

Hellooooo? Anybody here?

(Wiping off a chair) Here, sit down, sit down, I'll put some coffee on. Things get really dusty around here when I don't come in often enough...

I'm sorry I haven't been here to write, it's not because I didn't want to. For the 4 people who check in regularly, I thought about you the whole time I was gone. I was actually DOING STUFF. (Yaay! There was a time in the history of this blog when I didn't want to leave the house!) I composed entry after entry... in my head.

Out and About

I had one about my last visit with Richie and Wendy (shooting pool of course!) but things were busy so I could only memorialize it in pictures (Mostly on Facebook). Richie beat me to death, Wendy is a doll baby, love them both to pieces... nothing big and new, and we didn't discuss anything amazing or earth-shattering. Then again, with great friends you don't have to, it's enough just be together.

Still not digging how I look in these "we took a shot of ourselves" pictures,
 but I'll get used to it. It's the shot of the other two I really wanted anyway

Miscellaneous

I considered one about how much I'm enjoying visiting while the girls are at theater camp, how much I love my Theatre Babies, but you already know that... I am planning some mischief with my Gusto Girlfriends (the theatre Moms) but since many of them read this blog, I'll have be careful what I report... stay tuned!

I thought about writing one about Dr. P and what a great professor he is... epitome of what a counselor should be and all that... but for the girls in my cohort and me, giving Dr. P a hard time is one of the best parts of Internship Group Supervision class... so I really can't write a whole blog entry being NICE to him...

Then there was the one about...  Never mind.

The MC

The one I most wanted to write is about my new internship for this semester, more specifically, to introduce you to my boss. The Master Counselor is a Vietnam Vet, and a graduate of the same master's program I'm in.  Dr. P commented that my supervisor was very good at what he does; so I entered this internship with a teensy level of hero worship going before I even met him. Add to my preconceived visions of him a deep, all-business voice, a blunt no-nonsense approach to nearly everything, plus a wee bit of (admitted on his part) impatience, and I was almost intimidated into submission....

Best description I can give it: He likes some things a certain way, I'm particular about certain other things... we get together and play musical OCD. I would have written an entire blog about him a couple weeks ago, but privacy is also in his list of hang-ups, so I had to ask permission first, knowing his answer would be a big, fat NO. It took me a week to get up the nerve to ask him.

"I promise not to use your name!'

"Oh, well I guess that's okay then"

I had no intention of using his name in the first place. To me, referring to him as "The Master Counselor" is  infinitely more amusing. I, of course, am "The Counselor's Apprentice."



(No kidding, every now and then when we're having a round and round discussion, I hear the music that starts at around 2:15 start playing in my head. If I'm not careful, I can see the MC resorting to the action at 8:52.)

However, I think we're getting the hang of each other. I'm there to learn, he's willing to teach. He has a ton of experience... seems to enjoy passing his learning along, and he's stinkin' brilliant. (Don't tell him I said that.) Sometimes I learn as much at lunch as I learn in an entire weekend of classes. I bring some technology experience to the table that's come in handy lately, and he makes an effort to let me know it's appreciated... which means a great deal to me. PLUS... he counsels from a holistic perspective, including the spiritual. I think God stuck me right where I needed to be.

Wish I could write more, but there's a pile of laundry the size of a VW Bug on my bed waiting to be folded. (Well, I won't be folding it tonight, but I wanted you to know it got put off so I could get this much typed out.)

I'll try to get back here soon, promise. Lock up on the way out...