All right. Here is the scoop. The skinny. The scuttlebutt. Someone very close to me may or may not have the Swine Flu. Not that I would tell you if they did. And I certainly wouldn't post it on the internet. That would be way too embarrassing.
Why, you ask? What is the big deal, you ask? Because it is called the SWINE flu. Which basically means that you are a dirty pig. Might as well call it the Germ-infested Mud-hole flu, since it feels about the same. Why couldn't it be called something tragically romantic, like Scarlet Fever? I've always wanted to get Scarlet Fever. Doesn't it sound lovely? Dying from Scarlet Fever is right up there with dying from a broken heart on the romance scales.
The Swine Flu Council really screwed themselves over when they decided to name this strain of Influenza after pigs. I don't care if it did start out as a pig virus. Nobody wants to have an infectious disease named after a barnyard animal. No one really minded coming down with the Bird Flu, but Mad-Cow disease? No way. Sure, they often use the designation "H1N1", which is like sugar coating bat guano, because if you tell someone you have "H1N1", their first thought is always "Oh, right! That's that dirty pig disease! Stay away from me!"
Over the years the Disease Naming Committee in Washington, D.C. have made lots of similar disease naming mistakes. Don't they know what they are doing? Can't they see that it is all in the name? The real problem with Swine Flu is not its symptoms, but its name, and it is not the first disease to be maligned this way--Cat Scratch Fever? Who'd want to catch that?--while on the other hand, people are falling all over themselves to catch diseases like Anthrax, just because they sound so cool. Then there is Gas Gangrene, which is just adding insult to injury, but African Sleeping Sickness really sounds exotic! Canefield Fever? I don't know what that is, but it sounds nice. Dum Dum Disease? Well really! Who wants to tell their friends that diagnosis! And we still have to look out for Jock Itch, Lemming Fever, and Oral Hairy Leukoplakia.
So what's the take home lesson? CDC, if you want people to want to succumb to these diseases, you are going to have to step things up a bit. Use exciting words like "Jazz", "Spaceship", "Magic" or "Cash". Look at Rock and Roll Lyrics if you are out of ideas. Who doesn't want to come down with a raging case of The Boogie Woogie Blues, or Jungle Fever? Come on! Have fun with it!
To recap; Barn yard animals: Bad, glamorous vacation destinations: Good. Use words that compliment the infirm, like Smallpox, instead of derogatory words, as in Largepox or Dumb-n-Uglypox. Avoid words that make people giggle; while Swimmer's Ear is ok, Swimmer's Itch is definitely not. And when in doubt, use a different word altogether; Traveler's Diarrhea is questionable, but Traveler's Flux gets two thumbs up from me!
So Come On! Let's all work hand in hand to raise awareness of the danger of diseases with humiliating names. Together, we can come up with illnesses that people will be proud to get, and prouder to share with their friends and family!
That is Just Sick
Best Read After Midnight
Harrison and I went on a little Pumpkin Picking field trip yesterday, after which they gave us doughnuts and coloring books. Score! And I guess I was just tired enough that I found the coloring book hilarious and couldn't stop giggling about it all the way home.
Here are a few of my favorite pictures out of it. No doubt I am breaking several copyright laws:
Ooh, but here is a little something thrown in just for Mom!
And, lastly, this little gem:
Note the caption. Ironically, that is also eHarmony's new slogan. What are the odds?
Incidentally, Harrison loved the pumpkin patch, and loves the little pumpkin he brought home. He set in front of the heater all day so that it wouldn't get cold and is sleeping with it right now. Aww.
I Was Betrayed By the Internet
My computer is the biggest time/brain suck in my life. Example:
I will be in the middle of making dinner, and trying to figure out what time to have everything done by, and will sit down at my computer to IM my husband and ask him what time he is getting home.
But when I sit down, Gmail pops up to tell me that I have a new email from LDS Family Services telling me about the next Adoption Workshop we need to attend, so I will open my email just for a second to read that one message. And then I see an email from Facebook telling me that Marion has just tagged me in a picture, so I gotta check that out really quick, and because it is a truly horrible picture, I figure I need to retaliate by posting a bunch of humiliating pictures of her, so I scan in some of my own pictures (which I'm sure will only take a minute). While those are scanning I jump back over to my email and see an ad for discounts on lawn chairs, which reminds me that I have been wanting to look at a new bedding set, so I will start searching to see if I can find any good deals online. I end up at Amazon, and when I add something to my cart I see all the movies I have added in the past, which makes me wonder; When is Sherlock Holmes coming out? So I take a quick trip over to ComingSoon.net to see what movies are coming out in the next 6 months or so and end up watching movie trailers for the next half hour and then see that there is a movie coming out starring that kid who played Erkle and I wonder if he has done anything else in the last 20 years, so I stroll on over to IMDB where I am sucked into a wormhole.
Before I know what has happened HOURS have past, Richard is home from work and passed out from hunger in front of the TV, and Harrison has figured out how to make a bomb out of flour, paprika, and a toilet plunger, and actually managed to blow up the kitchen. And that is without me even peeking at anyone's blog.
I wish this were an exaggeration, but it is true! I sit down for 1 little thing, and before I know it, an hour has passed, I have no idea why I sat down in the first place and my real, actual life is passing by around me, while my brain has basically shut off! How am I supposed to live like that? And now I have no kitchen!
Needless to say, I really try not to get on line much these days.
Ok. And that isn't ALL true. In that scenario Richard would never let himself pass out from hunger. He is perfectly capable of getting his own food. He probably would have eaten 5 or 6 bowls of cold cereal and some pepperoni and called it good.
Eating in the car? Yes or no?
Ha. Just kidding. Of course Yes! What else am I supposed to do? Drive? Pay attention? Let's don't be ridiculous here. Everyone's favorite car activity is eating, and that is more true for children than for anyone.
But I am far too conscientious to give my child something like goldfish crackers or cheerios to snack on while we are on the road:
That's a bowl o' mashed potatoes. Food that sticks to your ribs, that's how we do it. When he finishes those off, I'm going to pass him back a steak (medium-well) and then a head of lettuce and a bottle of ranch. He's a lucky, lucky boy!
Jean Therapy
Today I took a little trip to Buckle, in the mall. I need new jeans. In a bad way. And Buckle has always been there for me when I've needed jeans in the past. I like their jeans, but what I like BEST is that they carry jeans in multiple lengths, so I can get jeans as long as my heart desires. Jeans that go all the way to the floor. Jeans that go past my feet. Jeans that don't quit, if I feel like it.
So I went to Buckle, and grabbed about 10 pair of jeans to try on and went into a dressing room. I had a 2 year old with me, of course. Why would I want to go shopping without one? While I tried on pants, Harrison alternated between opening the door right when I had my drawers around my ankles, or hanging from the railing in the room and screaming "MA!!" as loudly as he could. Good times.
But unfortunately, I didn't find a single pair of jeans I liked! And I'm afraid that the reason is that I am too old to shop at Buckle anymore. I was sure I would find the perfect pair of jeans, but all the jeans had funky washes and very funky pockets. I am just too old to walk around with stars on my bum!
So when I got home I vented my frustration to Richard. Either I have aged more than I thought in the last couple of years, or jeans are just a lot more blinged-out than they used to be. I just need somewhere I can find nice jeans designed for a woman, in multiple lengths and sizes, but where can I go?
Richard's oh-so-helpful answer was: www.MomJeans.com
My Bag Runneth Over
I decided that today felt like a good day to take a break from "Eureka" and do me a little writing. But only a little. I have a lot of "Eureka" episodes to watch, and I know where my priorities are.
So I been needin' me a new temple bag. (a.k.a. the bag I hold my items in when I attend The Temple.) The old one was too small. Cute, but failing in its most basic function, which is to hold my stuff. I have been putting off finding a new bag because I just didn't feel like it. Besides that I already have tons of bags. More bags than my husband has watches, which is really saying something. Why should I go pay money for a bag when I have a plethora taking over my closet as it is?
So the other day I pulled out every unused bag I could find so that I could choose one to be my new temple bag, and wouldn't you know, they are ALL too small! Who'da thunk? I was as shocked as I know you are at this point, but still not wanting to spend any real money to get a new one, I took a trip to D.I. And, as usual, I found just what I was looking for.
Not bad for $1.50, I say. My loot all fits inside and it zips up and everything. And it doesn't smell like poo at all.
I was pleased with my find, and figured while I was there, maybe I should get a new temple bag for Richard too. He is always complaining that his is covered with axle grease, or carburator juice or something like that, and wouldn't I just be the most thoughtful wife if I brought him home a new bag too?
Well, I am good at finding things, diamonds-in-the-rough are my specialty and I found just the thing for Richard's new temple bag!
Imagine my surprise when Richard said he didn't want it. I think his actual words were "Get that plastic thing away from me." I swear, I was never so shocked in my life. Where is the love?
Shelf Life?
I went to all the trouble to get Harrison a new bed, and where do I find him sleeping?
And of course he had to pull down every single item off his shelves to be able to get up there.
I'd like to think the expression on his face indicates some kind of remorse for his actions, but I know better.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)