Today I fell asleep over a pile of laundry. According to sources, I put my head down on the socks just to rest for a minute, and it stretched into a two hour nap.

Also, when I woke up this morning, I saw that I now have what I consider to be magnificent mammaries. Holy crap! My bra doesn't fit. This didn't happen the first time I made it to the 8-week mark. Weird.

I ate a ridiculous breakfast at noon: cereal, a Pepsi, and BBQ potato chips. Now I am paying for it. It was all I could do not to burp in the face of the woman behind the counter at the DMV.

Speaking of the DMV, last night, my 15 year-old brother got pulled over on our way home from church. My dad didn't know that his wife's car was registered to him, and his birthday was two months ago. Woo, tags that are two months expired... My brother got a citation and has to go to juvenile court. Also, they impounded the car. My brother got his temps three weeks ago. I feel so sorry for him.

The ability to see things in different ways.

I won't comment on the way this question is worded. "Heads up, Susie! POV comin' at ya!"

   

I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too!

I could be hilarious.

I'm sure we've all had those moments of sheer and unpolluted panic, where our stomachs seem to drop out of our bodies, and our hearts leap into our throats. For some, you feel it when you hear your kid screaming like a banshee in the backyard and know that they probably fell off something and broke a bone. In my case, I felt it when I didn't hear my kid screaming right after being born, and saw that she was blue and purple and limp.

I have to give credit to my mother for experiencing more of these moments than I ever have. Once when my brother was four, he somehow managed to turn the car on, put it in reverse, and back out of the driveway. There have been very few times I've seen my mom run that fast. It amazed me how she could be furious and crying and dragging him out of the car by one arm to beat his ass in the middle of the yard, all at the same time.

Today I heard cars honking outside the house and opened the front door to see Gizmo in the middle of the street. I have rarely run barefoot across three front yards in 15 seconds to grab a dog out of the road. He knew he was in trouble as soon as he saw me. He yelped at the sight of me, and hung limply in my arm as I trekked back to the house. While I was still trying to get over the shaking everything and catch my breath, Gizmo was staring up at me like nothing had ever happened.

I wonder if kids have that same look on their face after they've gone something to scare the ever-loving shit out of their parents.

They look like a nice group of kids, right? The guy in yellow is the other instructor. We have one pit instructor for aux. percussion, and one for mallet percussion.

 
That kid with his shirt pulled up is a freshman. He is already comfortable exposing his nipples to the entire marching band (140-something members), which was directly behind the person taking the picture.

We were trying to take a picture that both of us agreed wasn't ugly.
 
All the picture-taker ended up doing was catching us either laughing or making weird faces with our mouths open. "Come on back, Miss H, we're ready to do your colonoscopy."
 
This was on the sidewalk outside the latrines.

This is Gumby. You'll be seeing a lot of him in the near future.

There were some harsh words exchanged about this particular piece of music.

A KFC bucket that I wore as a hat. For Section Day, the drumline dressed up as characters from Family Guy. Joe was... Joe. He had a wheelchair, a plastic gun, and handcuffs, which I had to confiscate after he used them to chain another band student to a toilet.

The seniors split into groups and each group gets a night to decorate the band director's golf cart. The Jurassic Park theme was totally awesome, and the "Welcome to Jurassic Park" banner which was hanging over the directors' tower is totally hanging over J's front door now.


Strange freshmen boys...

I don't think you guys are ready to handle Gumby yet.

There were a lot of spiders on that hill. It was kind of strange to have a spider-tossing competition.

Pit massage train. While it was constantly suggested that I join, I never did.

For the most part, it was a great week. The week of band camp is the most hilarious week of the year. My lungs hurt from laughing.

For every good kind of hurt, however, there is the not-so-good kind: pushing a marimba/vibraphone/xylophone/bell set/bass drum up and down a steep hill twice a day for five days really does a number on your calves.

Also, the pit screws around a lot. They play with coloring books, plastic alligators and Play-Doh, and Gumby. Once, while we were down at the field with the band, it occured to the pit that they had left all their stuff out, and they didn't want the band to see it and call them lazy. So there we are, sprinting up the hill in an effort to reach the Conference Center before everyone else does. I'm also running, although much slower. As I shout, "Guys, be careful, don't trip on the way up!" I trip on the way up and ruin several things at once. My pants, the skin on my left knee, and my ankle.

The swelling hasn't gone down in four days, despite heavy use of Icy-Hot, Ace bandaging, leg-elevation, Advil, and freezer bags full of ice. I also have an interesting bruise on the SIDE of my right knee, and abrasions on my left palm.

Best news of all: Still pregnant.