Mama done gots PAID!!!!!!!!!!

The kid pulled out a whopping THIRTY TWO!!!! He scored perfect in Science 36, almost perfect in Reading 35, ehh in Math at 28 (he hasn't taken calculus yet) and then English is whatever it would have to be for those to average at 32. (Please know that I do know that 28 in Math is not ehh, really. My kids are really bright and I have exceedingly high, almost absurd expectations.)

I was so excited and proud that I threw on clothes, drove to the highschool, pulled him out of class and said, "I have to tell you something. The ACT scores are in."

He said, "Oh man. What did I do"

I scream, "32 BABY!" When I told him that he scored perfect in Science... he just grinned at me, "Isn't that the highest you can get?"

However, I did misquote the scholarship levels in my earlier post...he is ONLY going to get full tuition and fees, for a mere $25,808. CHA CHING.

Now Momz can rest a bit easier about the coin, and start helping the kid get ready to live on his own, in 8 months.

Now that...that is a whole other story!

PS The kid in college accomplished this same feat two years ago, pre-blogging. She rocks too, just so you know.

Is today the day?

So today is the day that we might potentially learn if the kid in high school got the magic 30 on his ACT that will ensure he gets a full ride to college. A minimum of 28 will get him $1,500 a year, but the threshold of 30 gets him full tuition and fees for all 4 years. If he rocked it out and got a 32 he will get full tuition, plus $1,500 to buy a new computer to take to school.

I have been trying to log into the ACT website, but I am getting the message, "Failure. Too many connections." I guess there are alot of desperate parents out there today.

I think I may be so obsessed I won't get anything productive done while I incessantly refresh until I manage to get in. Keep your fingers crossed that Mama gets a big payday today!!!

I am sorry, we don't have any tacos

So yesterday my sister posted an adorable story about my nephew and his two tiny cute orange birds.

(As an aside, I was at work from 8am to 8pm and got home exhausted and was able to relay two things to Mr. P before I crashed in front of Amazing Race dvr'ed from Sunday. The first was that we would be getting our $200 back, the second was our nephew's two tiny cute orange birds. Mr. P first wanted photos, but when I explained that the baby was putting them on the couch for his mom to take a picture, that did not phase him. "So? I want to see those birds." And second, our school colors are orange and blue, and when he heard the birds were orange, I could see the wheels turning..."He has ORANGE bird friends. Our school has ORANGE as a color, and has a bird friend. STEAMBOAT LOVES AUBURN. ")

Anyway, back to my story, yesterday, I posted about ordering hummus at an expensive dinner, and my sister asked me if I ordered that because my visitor was from India and all Indian people love the hummus. (He actually was IN India, but from Kansas.) We are not actually that culturally dense, there is a backstory there that is attributable to my son.

I read alot of "mommy blogs" and I have to say, I don't really have too many mommy stories that don't include references to beer pong, tattoos or the ACT, and to be brutally honest..those stories just aren't that damn cute, or funny.

But the Indian people liking hummus got me thinking back to Easter, 1999, and the type of stories I would have had to relay had I blogged when I had little kids.

We lived in a dumpy apartment, and my sister, her new boyfriend (Steamboat's Dad), my mom, me, Mr. P and both kids were spending the day together. We were sitting outside on the tiny "porch" and working on some Easter crafts that we got from the Dollar Store that were turning out horribly, and getting ready to eat. Apparently, the little boy (now the one in high school) had invited his friend, Marcos, over for dinner, unbeknownst to Mr. P or I.

As Marcos is being introduced to the family, and we are asking him would he like hotdogs or steak (you know, traditional Easter fare) our little boy announces, "I am sorry Marcos, we don't have any tacos."

For the record, Marcos chose steak.

I was so ready to rant and rave...

and...I got nothing.

I teach in a business school and one of the things in our "mission" is to expose students to as many business people as we can. This summer, Mr. P and I frequented a watering hole (that sounds way better than the place where Mr. P and I get drunk, right?) and got to know two of the bartender/servers and come to find out their Dad is a big wig. (As an aside, is it appropriate to capitalize Dad?) So, we did some talking, I called their Dad, and after several months of planning, he arrived here...FROM INDIA...on Saturday so that he could talk to several groups of our students. Well, last night he wanted Mr. P and I, him and his kids to go to dinner...the total was $200 (my dinner was only $9, but I did order hummus as an appetizer). I picked it up the check. Now my checking account won't cover rent.

So, I am sick all last night and early this morning that my boss is not going to reimburse me (normally we only get reimbursed for faculty and the actual guest) and that I am going to have to cause a scene because the guest paid his own airfare and lodging, and all he asked for was this. one. meal. and get up off the checkbook, Jackass, and pay me back, or I will never get another person in here to talk to these kids.

So our administrative assistant isn't here, but I see that my boss is, so I bite the bullet, knock on his door, go in, and tell him...Look...here's the deal.

His response:

Okay.

Hmmm. Awesome, but now what do I do for my fucking blog post?

Have you ever written a great post, then deleted it?

I have. If you, like me, have something you want to put out into the blogosphere, but for whatever reason do not want it attributed to your blog, or your person, we have been offered a great opportunity:

Nilsa, from SoMi had an extremely clever idea. So far over 50 bloggers are going to send her their "blog secrets." Then each contributor will host a secret on November 18. Cool, no?

Today's post serves two purposes...one, go check out the rules if you are interested because Nilsa is organizing and there are some administrative things you need to know. Second, when this blog is so totally awesome on November 18th...don't get used to it. I will be back the 19th.

ETA: There is a third purpose of the post...NINE for NINE!
And I used "their" for "there" in the final paragraph. Duh.

For the love of muffins

Post Backstory: Circa the week before Halloweenish

About three weeks ago Mr. P and I were browsing around Sam's. We decided to go gawk at the giant tubs of baked goods. We both love the baked goods, but are smart enough to know we can't buy them at Sam's.

So it is like we are touring the Smithsonian of Baked Goods:

"Look at those tiny brownie bites"

"Yeah, those are cool...but check out this giant box of cheese danish"

"I like this spidery looking cake"

You get the idea. Then, Mr. P gets quite serious and says, "I have made a decision."

Things go swirling through my mind...He is going to vote for McCain. He is giving up gluten. He is leaving me for Christie Brinkley. He is going to buy the new N'Sync CD.

Tentatively, I ask, "And what decision is that?"

Mr. P., "I have decided that I am going to start eating muffins."

Present Day

Yesterday Mr. P and I met for lunch in the downtown area of our little town. I had some good gossip to share about friends from college and our kid in college regarding the recent unexpected departure of one of her roommates. Then I was telling him about how visitors to the blog have really spiked over the last few days with NaBloPoMo, Twitter, and my sister. I then proceded to tell him that surely I was going to get very, very popular and someone from Hollywood was going to find it and want to make a movie. He is a good sport, and nods approvingly.

I decide to take it one step further.

"Who do you think will play you walking around Sam's talking about your love of muffins?"

With no hesitation, as if he has been waiting for me to ask this question for three years he says:

Denzel Washington.

Say my name, say my name.

On days I work in my office I leave my house at 7:15am, but I usually don't have any real need to be in my office until 8:30ish (I share a vehicle with a teenager and he drops me off on his way to school). My normal routine includes the kid dropping me off at a fast-food place close to my office and I drink 7 gallons of Diet Coke and read for 45 minutes or so to get my head on straight.

At the very least I do this 3 times a week, but 5 days this week. I go there so much that the people that work there call me by name. Unfortunately though, not my name.

It started about ONE. YEAR. AGO. Let's pretend for sake of argument that my name is Tina. About a year ago, as I walked in the door to said establishment, the manager piped up, "Good morning, TAMMY." And like a moron, I said "Good morning." Not, "Good morning. But hey, my name is Tina". Nope. Just "Good morning".

Two days ago, the manager even introduced me to a new employee as Tammy, and the new kid, said, "Oh what is your name, ma'am?"

I now bow my head in shame, I can't even admit what I said.

It would have been less awkward if I had said my Pirate name, Mad Grace Kidd, my fairy name, Twinkledance Flittertoes, my rapper name, Mobb Bone Flava-T, or even my transformer name, Slugface Defensor.

Now what the hell do I do? Do I gracefully tell the manager that I am such a douche that I let her call me by the wrong name for a year? Do I just change my name to Tammy to avoid the conversation all together? It might be less awkward to send notices to my family and friends. Or maybe I should just let it go, and take old Shakey's advice:

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."