Words Written: None on the work in progress but 6 small pages in a new journal
Song on the iPod: it's amazingly silent...

Once again, I find myself in a bit of a drive-by mode. Perhaps due to my discombobulated condition of late or maybe it's the late hour. Who knows. I said it many posts ago and I'll say it again -- October is a hellish month for me. So, some things going on in my crazy tilt-a-world:

~ I finally embraced my insanity and decided upon what kind of cupcakes I'll bake for my upcoming meetings at work: Vanilla-Vanilla, Vanilla-Mocha, Devil's Food-Mocha, and Devil's Food-Vanilla. All basic black & whites. Except maybe I'll play around with the vanilla buttercream frosting and add a little color. I'll be doing some small test-batches this weekend. I'll try to post some pictures.

~ This evening, I shipped my oldest spawnling off to my Dad's house to embark upon a journey most young teens could only wish for... except for the pre-dawn wake up call, that is. Heh. I wish my Dad luck. Once Shaggy has been roused from bed (probably with the assistance of ice water), they'll set out for Dad's sailboat and cast off for a full day/night regatta from Galveston to Port Aransas. I won't see him again until late Monday night. Let me just step back for a moment and say, "Woo Hoo!" as I do a little happy dance.

Since I've gotten that out of the way, I can now say: The kiddo should count his lucky stars he's there. Last week was report card week. To date, report card week has never provided any real source of trepidation or butt puckering. That's all changed, now. I feel like I've been robbed... or perhaps a little violated. Two, count 'em, TWO... D's. And no, that does Not stand for "Damn I'm good." It stands for "Deep, Deep, Doo-Doo."

One was in Spanish and came with a nifty little footnote, which stated, "Often unprepared." In teacher speak, that means, "He has no clue what he's doing in my class because I seriously doubt he's studying at home." Ahhh, you think? And yet, just yesterday I listened to him speak it rather fluently for a video taped project he had to turn in early.

The second D was in his Pre-AP Chemistry class, also with a footnote: "Failing Tests." When I inquired upon what tests had been failed, I blinked at the answer and said, "Huh?" Someone, please explain to me... how can he FAIL tests on the same subject matter that was ACED last year? Because, seriously. I Do. Not. Get. It.

Now y'all must be scratching your heads and wondering, "Why the heck did she let him go on this totally cool sailboat race?" Trust me, I had to ask myself that same question quite a few times. The answer? I had no choice. It's obviously some rare, mutated form of Parent's Revenge. I just haven't figured out the correlating situation from my past yet. See, the crews for these races are set in stone. Once you turn in the paperwork, you can't back out. If I kept him home, the boat would not leave the dock as the crew would be one short.

I'd rather roast in hell than have to explain that one to my Dad. As a matter of fact, I didn't even mention the grades to him. Hoo boy, it would have served Shaggy right to spend an entire weekend hearing about it from the original Field Marshall, though. I took pity on him.

Even so, Spawnling Numero Uno is swimming in the consequences with our parental shark-like nipping at his tasty heels. Upon his return, I will luxuriate with cupcakes, coffee, and a hefty stack of books while he renders my house sparkling clean with all his little teenage muscles. And then he'll muck the paddock. And maybe wash windows, even. I'm thinking the windows are looking a little less than sparkly. Heck, the dogs could use a bath too. In addition, he's still relegated to doing all of his homework at the kitchen table. Also, no friends over until progress reports come out and serious improvement is noted.

Perhaps that sounds harsh to some. I won't apologize. There's no room for blatant mediocrity here. Really, I wouldn't be so out of sorts if he had any decent excuse. Instead, he's suffering from the first-year-of-high-school-equals-party-time misconception. You know it. We all went through some form of it, I think. Okay, well I did at least. I understand it but that doesn't mean I have to like it. And it certainly doesn't mean I have to sit back and accept it, especially not when he's expecting me to shell out bucket loads of money for college in just three years.

~ Since Mr. Clean was gone all night driving Shaggy down to Clear Lake, the Doodlebug and I were able to spend some lovely time together. First we made fortune tellers out of paper. You remember these -- little four-square paper origami type things where you pick a color and then a number, and finally your fortune is read to you. Yeah, apparently these have come back in full force! Then, after egg, sausage, and cheese sandwiches (breakfast for dinner! Yea!), we settled in and watched Lost. I was Not disappointed by the season opener. Plus, I didn't have to endure Mr. Clean's blatant dislike of the show. Or Shaggy's constant questions about things either obvious (if you are actually, you know, Watching it) or as yet unknown to me (because, Hello! I have not seen this episode yet!). Oh yes, it was undeniably wonderful to actually hear all of the words instead of spending part of the hour attempting to read lips.

After that, I watched Jericho. While I was not around during the whole Cold War thing, I can still honestly say it -- This show scares the bejeezus out of me. And yet it's rather like a car wreck. You just have to look. It's strangely addicting, and then also annoying because, umm... Who the heck is that guy and why does he have a radiation suit? And why isn't he telling the rest of the town what the morse code said? He is hiding something and I do not like it. Yeah, I can see myself becoming attached to this one. Of course, that usually means it'll be cancelled right after I get fully entrenched. (crossing fingers)

When Mr. Clean came home, he brought with him a dainty, delicious little journal covered in red & black silk that my stepmom had sent. I petted it. And then I felt compelled to pop it open and write something. I got six pages of something! I don't quite know what it is yet... but it's crashing through my brain like a river come tumbling out its banks. It has not gone unnoticed, though, how this is Not what I need while still trying to finish my current WIP. I sometimes think my brain has selective ADHD. Or someone is slipping crack into my coffee.

~ I have more work due this month than in the last five months put together and my To-Do listing skills have vanished. I don't know where they went. For the past week, my To-Do list has consisted of moving yesterday's and today's stuff to tomorrow because time? It's also gone wonky. I think I'm losing hours somewhere. I looked under the couch but all I found was a pencil, a crayon, some dust bunnies, and a flip-flop I've been looking for. If you find my hours, can you please send them home?

~ I found an awesome new blog called Confessions of a Pioneer Woman. She's hilarious. She burps like my sister, GypsyRose and she's not afraid to post very nice photos of some seriously Blech! subject matter. Go look. I dare you! (and now I will fall upon the floor laughing)

~ October Blogging 4 Books is OPEN. Check it out. I haven't yet decided upon what I'll write... or if I have anything to write. Or if I can write? When it was on Joss's blog, once you won... that was it. You were out of the running. I'll have to check on that.

~ None of you readers (and I know you're out there! I see you!) offered up any advice on decent earbuds. *sniff* Don't y'all love me at all??

I'll forgive you, though, because I managed to find these. I paid a little more than I'd wanted to.... but a LOT less than their regular price (and $30 less than they're currently stating too. Damn, I made out like a bandit!). Surely they will fit my mutant ear holes.

Okay, that's it. I'm wiped out and notice that, once again, I have completely failed to meet my 1:00 am bedtime deadline.