Happy Birthday to VonMom

She has a green thumb, like a REALLY green thumb. I don't like plants. She can't carry a tune, and likes to make up her own words to songs. I know more song lyrics than I know anything else, and carry a tune quite nicely. She doesn't like it when I draw smiley faces on her hands. I like to draw smiley faces on her hands. She thinks I'm a smart ass. I think, 'huh, wonder where I got THAT from'. She hates tattoos. Thinks they might be a roadblock to my future as President of the United States. I love my tattoos, am planning on getting another one soon, and was pretty sure that her being not an American citizen might put more of a damper on my future as President of the United States. She thinks (deep down) that I'm smart enough to be President of the United States. She raised me with a "whatever doesn't kill her will make her stronger" mentality. I love that she did. I'm so hugely independent, and that's all her. She and VonDad have the cutest banter you've ever heard. It's like two news anchors that have been working together for, oh, about 25 years or so. She hates that my eyes "crinkle up and disappear" when someone is taking a picture of me. She doesn't realize that hers do the same thing. Deep deep down, she thinks I'm funny, even when she says "You are NOT funny!" I think I'm funny. My friends adore her. I'm pretty sure some of them like her more than me. She may have nearly fainted when her daughters got their ears pierced, but Oh My God, if you wrongfully fire her child from her crappy part time job in high school she will EAT YOU FOR BREAKFAST. She probably thinks that I got some bad habits from her: smoking (well, I'm over that one), t.v. watching, chatting, chocolate eating. What I also got was strength, honesty, drive, and determination. In those I'm proud to say that I'm her daughter. Happy happy birthday Mom. You're the coolest. Love you!

Crappy poster lately.

I don't really want to take a haitus, but it seems like that may be happening. Things at work have been crazy, busy, and crazybusy. My evenings? Even more so. Here's this week: Last night: Ticket counting from MayFest. I left at 9:40 (almost 4 hours of counting) and they were not finished. Tonight: GUITAR 2 STARTS!!!! Woo to the hoo Tomorrow night: VonMom's birthday. I'm trying to crash their dinner plans. Thursday: More time spending with VonParents Friday: Girls night with Toni Saturday night: Volunteering at Old Town Sunday: Something I cannot remember. Now, tomorrow being VonMom's big day, I will be posting a post to her. Beyond that? I will try. and try and try. But I make no promises.

VonForNow

is having such a shit day at work, she can't even talk about it. Nor can she blog.

Interns and book clubs

1. My intern is back at work. Here's why I love her:

• She works her ASS off, all summer for me and LB1.
• She has a great attitude
• She's smart. And driven.
• She's got a great work ethic, for a 20 year old, sure, but there are a lot of people I know that can learn a thing or two from her.
• She really does go to Starbucks whenever we want! Sometimes every day!
• She's adorable

Here's why I don't:

• She's adorable
• Like, all 90 lbs of her
• And 5'0" of her
• Standing next to her makes me feel like....um...... like
• Like Ursula to her Ariel
• Like Snuffulopogus to her Elmo

All kidding aside, I'm sooooo glad she's back!

2. Not Your Momma's Book Club (why, yes, I DID name it, thanks for asking!) had our "On the Road" Jack Kerouac meeting in my awesome yard on Saturday. 3.5 bottles of wine and 5 hours worth of meeting. We're a good club. Really good. Like new people want in to NYMBC all the time. We're letting two new members in this month. I don't think they know about the blindfolds and paddles that come with the first meeting, but whatever.

Not so sure about this new book - "The Help", but in an effort of democracy, I'll read it. Majority rule and all that. I have to get a copy, LB1 is checking to see if she has it to lend to me. Otherwise I'll be hitting up half priced books.com or whatever it's called.

Happy Monday, my shiny happy people, happy Monday.

I got your bandwagon right here

Psst - Hey, hey you Um, so THE BLACKHAWKS WON THE STANLEY CUP LAST NIGHT. SO The rest of the NHL can SUCK IT. That is all. Back about your day. ***return of the snark***

Happy Birthday

Today is my dad's birthday. It's a big one. If you remind him of that, he'll shrug, and say "Eh" in a non-committal way. See, my dad is the guy that they wrote the greeting card about - Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a dad. Who's my dad? My dad is the greatest man I know. From my earliest memories, he's this guy: The one who bandaged up my busted big toe when I was three after I dropped a glass bottle on it. Also the one who picked me up from a snow drift in the blizzard of '79 when I fell off the sled. And took me to the circus for my birthday. To this guy in my grade school years: The guy who made a super cool erosion science project with wood, duct tape and soup cans. The guy who drove 4 or 5 girl scouts to camp every month or so in his very new Cadillac, and stopped on the way for french fries for all, as long as we didn't tell our leader. And gave me lopsided pigtails when he tried to do my hair. The the one in my high school years: The guy who said "Man, Von, you make me so mad, but I LOVE YOU". The funny guy who, when friend would call on the phone and say "Is Von there?" he'd respond with "Why, yes she is, thanks for asking" and hang up on them. and also the guy who: Hung my and Laura's bras from the ceiling fan when we forgot to take them upstairs with us, he then turned on the fan, in the living room, in front of the picture window. Then along the way: He began to see me as a person, an adult, not as a child. Probably long before I thought of myself that way. He smirks at me in a way that says 'I know. I know what you're thinking. It's pretty funny, but I"m thinking the same thing too.' He loves my mom the way she deserves to be loved. They are the cutest couple I know. Watching them together is like watching a goofy loving sitcom. He reminds me that I'm smart. He loves me in a way that makes me think he loves me the most. Of all seven of his kids. Which is quite a trick. He thinks I'm funny. Really funny. And tells me so. Though I don't let him read VFN, I'm sure he'd be a fan if he did. He's always been supportive of me writing. Happy Happy birthday to my dad - the greatest dad, the greatest person I know. Love ya!

Announcing:

Tomorrow's post will be schmoopy, not snarky, so for those wanting the snark, please come back another day. Thanks!