flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

June 23, 2007

The Internet Totally Rules, Part 2 (?)

You know, every once in a while, there’s something that gets in your head that you have to track down. Correct that – if you’re a crazy type-A birdwoman, something gets in your head and you have to track it down. (Yes, dear MIL, I am reading Kitchen Table Wisdom. But the force is strong in this one, and I will not learn to let go for many years, I assure you.)

As many of you may know, I’m studying to be a teacher. One of the pedagogy classes I just finished had us trying to find many different ways of teaching the same material. One of the ways that always reaches out to me (as it would to any self-respecting songbird) is music. Since I’m headed for teaching middle-school science and math, music is a strange but effective tie-in.

Effective, you say?

“to understand the fundamental facts of energy, you must have a working knowledge of its terminology. From atoms down to x-rays, come along and sing with me the ABC’s and 123’s of energy…”

-Tom Glazer and Dottie
Evans, What is Energy, pt 1, as played ad nauseum in Mr. Todrick’s 5th grade “science and music” class. Where it became an earworm of huge proportions for certain members of the birdwoman clan.

So, this song, or rather the "energy in motion is kinetic" "energy that's waiting is potential" song, got stuck in my head when I was writing up a paper for my class. I Googled it today. And, what d’ya know? Jef P. has taken those cool, hip records and provided mp3’s for all of us nostalgic 30-40 somethings to hum along with.

Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go spam my sister’s mailbox with the crazy chemical energy song. Heh.


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June 21, 2007

Does Anyone Still Read This Blog?

After a huge hiatus, imposed by Real Life, I wonder... however, I'll still continue to post, simply because it's my vent place. If no one reads, well, *shrug*, no skin off my nose!

Last night, my classes ended (for the summer). In the words of Braveheart: “FREEDOM!” I will commence to be entirely too lazy for the rest of the summer.

Stinky has gone away for the week – down to his grandparents. Boy is the mothman jealous. It’s really amazing how big Tim has gotten in the past year. He’s a little boy now; the cherubic toddler is but a mist that I can only see when he sleeps. I’ve been a bit worried about him lately – he’s started wetting the bed again. I think it’s because he’s just exhausted and he’s sleeping through the need to pee. You see, John is a big believer that kids should play and play and play – especially outdoors when it’s nice. So, our kids play and get tired.

John is a good dad, though all he wanted for Dad’s day was the Dangerous Book For Boys. It’s a hit. If you haven’t seen it, and you have young boys, you should check it out.

Not all dads are so cool. This story ticked me off (reg required), so I thought I’d share:

IF LOSING HER beloved son Kenny on 9/11 was unbearable for
Philadelphia mom Elsie Goss-Caldwell, what's happened since is unconscionable.

Kenny's father, who she says abandoned the family when Kenny was a
toddler and played no role in his life, is seeking to profit from his death.

In an act of shameless greed, Leon Caldwell Sr. has filed for half of
the nearly $3 million awarded to Kenny's estate from the September 11th Victim
Compensation Fund of 2001.

[Caldwell Sr.] last saw Kenny in 1984, at her
mother's funeral, 17 years before Kenny's death.

And while he claims to have supported the boys financially, he was
still more than $12,000 in arrears on court-ordered child support when Kenny
died, Elsie's brief said.

At $30 a week, that's a lot of missed payments.

Kenny had
called his mom the morning of Sept. 11 to tell her he loved her, but had to get
out of the World Trade Center because of "a bomb."

He was an executive for a consulting company on the 102nd floor of the
North Tower - the first building hit by the terrorists. His body was never

Weeks after Kenny vanished in the rubble, she left messages on his cell
phone beseeching him not to give up, that "Mommy" was still looking for
But when she showed up to fill out a death certificate, she was told
she wasn't listed as next of kin for Kenny, who was unmarried and had no

His long-estranged father had signed the papers, seeking to be a
beneficiary of his estate.

To some people, Caldwell's action may seem
indefensible. Yet he never really has had to defend it. His case is simple: He
is a surviving, albeit estranged, parent; Kenneth died without a will; he has a
right to the money.

It has prevailed so far. Three years ago, the New York State Workers'
Compensation Board awarded Kenneth's estate $50,000 on a claim filed by his
mother, who is the estate's administrator. Leon intervened seeking half - and
got it.

He later was ordered to return $12,460 to his ex-wife to cover unpaid
child support, but the point was made: The law didn't require a good father,
just a biological one.

I think there will be a special place in hell for people like this deadbeat dad.


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June 01, 2007

Enforced Hiatus

I’m jotting this down as my computer does its Microsoft Updates. I hate those damn things. All hackers should BURN IN HADES.

I am currently doing 2 grad courses in 6 weeks. It’s NUTS. I’m 3 weeks in, and not able to sleep. I feel like a Victorian woman, complaining of nerves. And Poor John. He’s had to take the brunt of the kids. An example of what he’s putting up with:

The other night, Mothman runs up to John, crying.

“Sean toot-tooted on me!”

Stop. If it were me, I would say (screech), “SEAN! NO TOOT-TOOTING ON YOUR BROTHER!!”

But, I was in class. John handled it in a guy manner. “So what? Fart right back on him. I don’t care!”

Thus ensued a flatus war. However, Tim is 4. He tried to force one… well, it was rather the opposite of that olde bathroom-stall limerick (You know the one: “here I sit, broken hearted…”).

When I got home that night, John practically had a storm cloud over his head. Mothy was so upset that he had soiled himself that he kicked off his gnarly undies in the bathroom. And got funk on his foot, which he tracked across the floor. He pulled himself up onto the toilet seat, spreading more love there. John had to clean it all, and, of course, give Timmy a shower.

Needless to say, Timmy did not sing the Thomas Theme song when he finished this duty. (That’s his new habit. He sings Thomas as he poops. What a kid.)

And of course, when I heard the story, I laughed. Because I am evil.


Speaking of chocolate and evil – the “big” chocolate makers want to change the legal definition of chocolate – lowering the cocoa butter requirement in the magic elixir (blogger keeps eating my hyperlink. What do you want for a free product? Anyway, food section of philly inq yesterday - search on mockolate). They want to make my drug of choice waxy.

Cheap bastards.


So an update wouldn’t be an update without telling about Stinky. What’s he up to these days? Playing outside, mostly. He’s berry brown already (yes, we use sunblock. No, we can’t do it all the time.) His hair is turning blond again, though it will never be white as it was when he was a baby.

He has 10 days left of school. The last day, they’re doing a kindergarten play, singing patriotic songs. For some reason, this brings Kindergarten Cop to mind for me. He’s stuck between pride (he likes to be in these kind of productions still) and being a “that’s so not cool” little kid.

He got a hold of a stamper the other day – I don’t know where or ho
w (I am never home). He chose to stamp his sheets with it. So, now his white sheets have red hearts all over them. He thinks its cool. We’ll see if he still thinks its cool in six months. But I didn’t yell. They’re only sheets, and they’re his sheets. No harm, no foul. See, I am learning!


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