Monday, November 7, 2011

Miscellaneous Musings

So it's Monday night and I'm sitting in my living room, surrounded by the coziness that our half-lit Christmas lights, a glass of red wine and the lull of the tumbling dryer provide.

It's 10:47 and there is nowhere else I'd rather be. With a neglected textbook by my side, I sip my wine only to be interrupted by random spurts of side-splitting laughter.

Allow me to give you a glimpse into my simplistically humorous day.

Twenty minutes before I had to leave for class, the fire alarm went off in my building and I impressively threw my makeup in my back pack and rushed out the door almost completely ready to begin my day.  I'm happy I haphazardly gathered my belongings in a rush out the door because we were assured by half-asleep young man in flannel pajamas that this was "Not a drill. I repeat, not.A.Drill." (Everything was fine.)
Then I got in the car and spilled an eighth of the contents of my water bottle on my lap, leaving me with an uncomfortably cold sensation on an already brisk morning, and an unfortunate shading on the inseam of my pants suggesting I didn't make it to the restroom.
My day got better at the CYC thanks to entertaining conversations with my babies.

The Blonde Brigade: "Ms. Alensis come look at the bridge we built!"
Me: Wow boys, that must have taken you a long time! I love your sand structure!
Blondie 1: Yeah we worked really a lot.
Blondie 2: Too bad it's going to be destroyed by hot lava any minute now.
Me: Oh no, hot lava? Where does it come from?
Blondie 3: Volcanoes.
Blondie 1: My mom told me where volcanoes come from. They come from amusement parks. You know the kind with dinosaurs. WATCH OUT THE HOT LAVA IS GOING TO EXPLODE RUN RUN RUN

... end of conversation.

Words of advice: hide-and-seek is less fun when you are always the counter, and when those who you are seeking only hide in one of two chosen hiding spots, for twenty-five minutes straight. There are only so many times I can count to 10 and pretend to search the playground before Ms. Alensis loses her mind, kids.

Then I played the politically-correct version of the game formally known as Hangman, Build-a-Man, four times in a row with a four year old who only knows how to spell "Horse."  

I baked spaghetti squash for an hour and it wasn't completely worth the wait.  Good thing I ate one slice of savory pumpkin bread and one slice of delicious banana bread in the mean time.
My roommates are fabulous.

On Google and their work site amenities: 
"Don't they have goats that cut their grass?" - Anonymous Roomie 

On doing tax homework:
"I don't understand why I have to do this.  There are minions that can crunch numbers while I'm sleeping so I can do the things that really matter when I wake up." - Anonymous Roomie 2

Good idea... write that in your application to Grad school.
Happy work-week!


Sar said...

1) Your roomies sound awesoe
2) The blonde brigade sounds harsh!
3) Sorry about the cold water. It's been freezing in Central Texas so I couldn't imagine how a little water in the morning would feel!
4) "Hangman" is politically incorrect? I never thought about it, but I guess it makes sense (as the man is hanging himself...). Noted.

Love your blog! Newest follower, right here. Found you through Mingle Monday (don't judge, I know it's Tuesday)!

-Sarah from [life of love]

Sar said...


It'd help if I could spell correctly on a blog titled "Glitz and Grammar," eh?

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