I'm here, I'm queer...

and I'm tired! That's right folks, I'm still tired! I am never ever going to catch up on what is rounding out to be years of lost sleep and dammit, I'm feeling a little pissy about it right now... Although, re: that -- it is entirely possible that I'm pissy due to some bizzarre hormonal imbalance since i haven't yet received a visit from "my friend" this month. Typically, I'm like clockwork down there (arguably the only area in my life where I'm predictably normal) but not this time. And I gotta say, i'm conflicted. It's not that I LIKE the pain and annoyance and puffy parts but at the same time, having the schedule suddenly decide to get freaky on me just makes me think thoughts like "Well, you are getting older. Maybe this is what happens when your body starts to decay..." Nice. Anyway. I'm probably pregnant. Ah, the joys of one bi-girl's life. Limited time only, win a chance at being ME! Line forms to the left gals, no shoving....

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Kid's last day of camp is today. She is very excited to start school again as am I. Have I mentioned that Boo is the very best kid in the whole world? She's taken to noticing when I do stuff that she considers "nice" and remarking on it. For instance, we have an HORRENDOUS ant problem at Chez Chick and I'm always running around with a soapy cloth and a broom and this top secret Chinese "Ant-be-Gone" chalk trying to keep the little monsters out of the cat food, refrigerator, bed etc. ... So, this morning we're already in the car heading across the bridge when I remember that I left a fishstick on the dishrack (Do NOT ask). I groan. Kid asks why. I explain that I left a fishstick out on the dishrack and that the ants are going to notify all their friends and arrange a kick-ass (I didn't really say "kick-ass") houseparty/breakfast/brunch retreat wherein all four thousand colonies will march straight into the house and start treating the kitchen counter like the US treated the Phillipines in the early fifties. (Yeah, I know. I don't expect her to get ALL the references but it does set up some interesting playground dialog for later in the day... ) to which she replied "Well, that's o.k. [When, I ask you, is COVERT invasion ever o.k.??] because they need to eat too." "The ants?" I asked, checking the rear view mirror to make sure that MY child (the one who will wake from a sound sleep in order to inspect the couch for any lingering signs of the tiny black bastards before allowing me to set her down on it) has not been replaced by some tree-hugging, hippy, no-belly-button, kid-automaton from Disney corp. "Yes," she says having another bite of apple. "That was a nice thing you did." She then added "Let them have their breakfast in peace. You can kill them when we get home."