Where does the time go?

Today is my 36th birthday. Celebrations: I went on a date with The Hubbins Saturday night. The girls "surprised" me with breakfast in bed. (I never saw it coming. Not even when Thing 2 smirkingly interrogated me at dinner last night about how I cook my eggs.) My secretary brought a cake to work yesterday, which was quite tasty. I'm having lunch today with some former colleagues, who will join with me in eating my 36 free buffalo wings from a local college bar.

It doesn't get any better than this . . .

When I was a yout, I had a practice of writing a letter to my friend Bill on October 30th. This went on for 5 or 6 years between the ages of ~17-22. The letter would rambling on for several pages, reflecting on the prior year and give a snapshot off where I was at that point, as I stood on the precipice of another year. I don't remember why I stopped writing them -- I probably got annoyed with Bill about something and figured I'd "show him". Anyway, I don't have the time for such indulgence anymore.

But for those of you still reading, here are a few highlights and low lights:

1. I quit a job, was unemployed for 4 months while operating The Law Offices of Me, and got a new job.

2. I immediately pissed off a partner at the new job (for something that was, at best, a miscommunication between me and another associate). I've decided that his dislike is probably not going to make a big difference in my career because bigger fish (including his two rabbis) like my work a lot, send it to clients sans review and with attribution, and give me more work. AND my clients have brought in a VERY respectable chunk of cash so far this year.

3. I rode a mechanical bull last week. Got a big nasty black and blue to prove it.

4. I've discovered the Cosmopolitan, and it has become my cocktail of choice. Nothing will ever replace the Margerita in my heart, but I gave up looking for a bartender who could make a decent one. Sour mix has no place in a Margerita and don't get me started on the fruity concoctions and "top shelf" Margeritas featuring brandy and whatnot.

5. October sucked and I'm glad it's nearly over. Great Grandpa died. Thing 1 was diagnosed with scoliosis for which she will have to wear a brace; Thing 3 will need tubes in her ears; the dog is becoming senile and keeps peeing all over the house; one of the mini anoles died; etc.

6. Thing 2 just gave me the coolest birthday gift ever. She repurposed two t-shirts, sewed them together and made me a bag. I love it! I've got to figure out how best to use it.

7. The Hubbins finally (finally!) got good treatment for his chronic migraines. Instead of being in a constant state of pain, he has had exactly 2 acute migraines (that lasted for only a day or so) since early summer.

8. Lieutenant Sister and I went to a swanky NYPD affair at the New York Yacht Club this past Friday. (That room on the upper right -- that's where the party was. I could have spent the entire night admiring the woodwork.) I wasn't certain of the address (when do I ever drive myself there?), so I looked on their website and concluded that if I had to ask where they are located, I'm probably not their of people. (I felt compelled to swipe a few custom imprinted paper handtowels from the Ladies Powderroom to prove their point. Commodore J. Pierpont Morgan would not approve.)

9. I dyed my hair for the first time last month. (It is darker and redder than my natural color.) I've got the line of demarcation one-half inch off my scalp to prove it.

I can't take any more introspection. Until next year. . .

Frances, Fran, Franny, Fred, Farn, Psycho, Fran-tic, Miss-Tic, and That-Pain-In-The-Ass-[fill in the relationship]-of-Mine

Michaels 1, Paranoid Inner Voice 0

Good thing I didn't bitch and moan to the Michael's Yarn Commendatore last week. I was completely wrong. (Yes, it was bound to happen once. . .)

I was not the yarn doctor to which they referred. They had a slew of paid staff, sitting around knitting and crocheting to answer questions. I did little, other than knitting a Warm Up America Square (which looks conspicuously like a rectangle), and stifling a giggle while the paid staff Knit Lights spokesmodel tried desparately to look like the little flashlights at the tips of her needles actually helped. (I'm sorry, but pour quoi? Can you imagine -- you're running late for the movie, you pull out of the driveway and screech to a halt -- you forgot your light-up knitting needles. How can you go to the movies without your light-up knitting needles?!? So back you go. Rummage rummage rummage. You can find the Size 7, 10 inch light-up needles, but where did you put the Size 5, 14 inch ones???? NFW, baby. I'll take my chances in the dark.)

Thing 2 accompanied me to Michael's, and we both won door prizes -- Knifty Knitter looms. Now Things 1 and 2 can engage in spool-to-the-death knitting competition. (You think I'm kidding? The two came to blows yesterday over whose small stuff animal had superior martial arts training and skills.)

I used my 20% off to purchase knitting notions for Things 1 and 2 who have, yet again, conned me into spending skads o'cash on them at lovely yarn boutiques because they said, "Mom, I want to knit something." I shall be pleasantly surprised if they complete any of the several yarn-related projects they started in the last 3 days.

Do I curse Michael's NOW, or wait until Sunday?

Last month, I got an email from The Knitting Guild Association Club Group Team Squad, of which I am a member, informing me that:

Michaels Arts and Craft Stores is offering an opportunity for all members of The Knitting Guild Association (TKGA) to donate their time to a worthy cause to teach knitting and/or crochet to customers during our annual October Yarn Event. The emphasis will be on teaching customers to complete squares for the 'Warm up America/Blankets for Canada' charity.

I think, "What the hey! Good Karma, 20% off my purchases that day, what's not to love!" I sign up. It is scheduled for Sunday 10/15.

I got an email from Michael's Yarn Commendatore, confirming my participation and inviting me to check out their website to learn more about their fabulous amazing to-die-for yarn event. So I go... and see this:

The Yarn Doctor is IN! Don't miss your chance to consult with the Yarn Doctor at your local Michael's on Sunday, October 15 from 1-5. Bring in projects for expert assistance, or learn the basics of how to knit. . ."

Ummmmm... You talking to me? Sure, I can "Yarn Doctor", but if I am giving "expert assisance" to Michael's customers on their existing projects, then I'm providing a service for publicly-traded for-profit Michael's. Which is not quite the same, karma-wise, as teaching newbies to knit rectangles to be made into blankets for the homeless.

Yeah, I can see myself getting into a shouting match with the Michael's store manager, as I explain to him that he should check with tax and employment counsel, because one simply cannot volunteer for a for-profit publicly-traded company and that he'd better give me my 20% before I inform some FLSA class action lawyer about this.

Shhhhh. I'm hiding from my kids.

Don't tell them I'm down here, or they will find me and start complaining. Thing 3 is overtired from having apparently given up napping altogether (although I HEARTED that 7:30 p.m. bedtime last night), Thing 2 is in a foul mood ("Mom, can we leave [Thing 1] in an orphanage?" "A dirty one, that is overcrowded and serves only cold gruel?" "Yes." "Okay!"), and Thing 1 has taken to writing manifestos protesting her enslavement on the kitchen chalkboard ("How could you make me watch [Thing 3] while you prepared lunch and cleaned up after me????".

Drat! Thing 2 found me. Thing 1 has locked something of Thing 2's together with the brand-spanking-new combination lock I just bought her for school. Ugh.