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We’re out of milk and bread.  I haven’t figured out what to cook for dinner for the past four days.  I don’t know what we’ll have tomorrow.  We have no potatoes.  I can’t remember the last time I ate a vegetable.

I need to go to the bank because I have no checks.  I haven’t ordered checks in a million years since I hardly ever use them.  But then, BOOM, I used them up.  And now I need some.

• Threat of Exposure

I have to return the grass clippers that I bought at Fred Meyer that are defective.

I really need to go to the grocery store.  I dread bringing my daughter because she is Chatty Cathy and also doesn’t take no for an answer–you better parents would refuse to buy Cheetos and Cocoa Puffs, but I just give in.  It’s easier.  I know.  I’m raising a monster, a serial killer, a spoiled brat.  Or not.  But I wish I didn’t have to grocery shop with her in tow.  I find it exhausting.  I shop as fast as I can when she’s with me.

The Cave rip 28 Weeks Later… movies My house is a wreck.  Vacation last week was followed by complete disarray.  I haven’t been able to catch up on my housework or laundry since I started working again the day I got back from the beach.  For some reason, I thought it was wise to overschedule myself, so Monday I spent several hours at the doctor’s office before work.  Tuesday I spent several hours at the dentist office before work.

Today, I took the kids to Wild Waves.  Then picked up an extra kid and delivered him to his house along with one of my boys.  Returned home, took one of my teenagers and his friend to the local beach to play volleyball.  Then took my daughter to the pool.  Returned home for an hour and then started working again, a five hour shift which just ended half an hour ago.

• Stuart Little dvdrip

My cats have no food.

What I need is half a day, a good solid six hours, to grocery shop, clean and shake the sand out of my head.  I just cannot get myself together.

But I did find my lost Wild Waves season pass–unfortunately, I found it after we returned from Wild Waves.

Lust Connection on dvd

I would like to sleep in tomorrow.  However, as I have pointed out, I must go to the grocery store and bank or my entire world will collapse in a heap.  And then I’d have to clean up the broken heap of my world and frankly, I just don’t have time for that.

Sometime around my birthday (January 28, mark your calendar), I telephoned my doctor’s office to make an appointment.  The appointment scheduler informed me that I would be considered a new patient since I hadn’t visited the doctor in awhile.  That is the penalty one gets for being healthy.  (Remember, I have tried in vain to catch the pandemic sweeping the world, however, the Swine Flu eludes me.)

So, the next available appointment for a “new” patient was July 13.  Today.

I dread visiting the doctor because a visit involves two unpleasant realities:

1) Standing on a scale in front of a stranger;

2)  Appearing naked in front of a stranger.

However, I am a grown-up, a grown-up in dire need of some preventative care.  If I were a car, my oil would have run dry and my tires would be totally deflated.  Also?  I’d have no gasoline and my filters would be filthy.

• Drag Me to Hell divx

I arrived on time for my doctor’s appointment.

The nurse escorted me to the scale.  Fun times were had by all except me.

Then she said, “And why are you here?”

I couldn’t even begin to imagine.  I said, “Um, I can’t remember.  I made the appointment a long time ago . . . “

She led me to the exam room and clicked onto the computer in search of information.  Why was I there?  “You are here to establish new patient care.”   I explained that it had been, well, seven years since my annual routine test that all women are required (by law?  by decree?) to get.  She shook her head and said maybe I’d have to make another appointment since the doctor didn’t have time to do a physical exam.

I was pretty sure I just wanted a routine check-up.  I thought that’s what I asked for.  Well.

The nurse kicked my tires, checked my oil levels, took my blood pressure.

The doctor finally breezed in.  She looked at me and said, “You’re listed as a new patient but I know you!”

Lust Connection film I Know You Know psp So I explained that I’m never sick and that I think I last visited the office in 2006–she checked and it was really October 2005, but let’s not quibble.  She was quite alarmed that I hadn’t had my annual test since . . . 2002.  And she asked about that mammogram she told me to get in 2005.  Yeah, well, I never got around to that, either.

• The Christmas Toy film

That’s how I ended up naked on the exam table getting a physical exam even though I was only scheduled for a chit-chat.   And while she was doing unspeakable things, we began to speak about our church (Mars Hill) and pastor (Mark Driscoll).  There is something a little disconcerting about having a normal conversation while someone is doing that particular thing, but I guess it’s better to pretend that we are both clothed and having tea than for us to focus on reality which is so bizarre, if you ask me.  Please, do not ask me.

I got a tetanus shot.  She declared that everything seemed fine.  No immediate suspicion that I will keel over dead anytime soon of a dread disease.  She sent me down the hall for blood draws.  Two vials, no fainting.

Now, I just need to call to make that mammogram appointment.  I need to do it this week before I let that paper drift to the bottom of the pile of papers that I ignore.

I wish I could just detach them and send them to the lab on their own.  I really, really do not want to escort them to the mammogram place, but since I am the one with a driver’s license, I guess I have to drive them.  (And by “them”, of course, I mean The Girls.  Let us not speak of them again.  They are shy.)

Also?  I am going to pretend that  I did not hear the word “colonoscopy” today.  I am so not interested in getting old enough to require that particular procedure.

Tomorrow:  Taking the 11-year old and 6-year old to the dentist.  I’m telling you–the fun just does not STOP around here.  Don’t be jealous.

Last Monday, I drove to Long Beach, Washington, by myself.  In a car half-full of essentials to get me and my family through a week of fun and frivolity at the beach.  The man I have been married to for almost twenty-two years has finally noticed that solitude soothes me and also, he wants me to finish writing The Novel.  So, he sent me to the beach a full day and a half before bringing the children and meeting me there on Wednesday.

The cabin at the beach has no telephone, no television, and no Internet.  I did have a radio with a talk-radio station which I turned on from time to time.  My husband suggested I not broadcast that our house would be empty (available for robbery, just help yourself) for a week, so I didn’t mention I’d be going.  Did you miss me?

This may be one vacation that doesn’t leave me in serious need of a vacation.  That’s because the children stayed for three days, then left me alone for another twenty-four hours.  Then I drove home alone–and despite the abundance of rain and traffic, I was in the car by myself and thus, did not return home frazzled and screaming.

While at the beach I strolled along the shore, scanning the sand for sand dollars.  I always look at Long Beach, even though whole sand dollars are rare–and my patience and determination paid off on the second day just as I told myself that I’d have to turn around and head back.  And there it was:  a perfect, round sand dollar.  I like to think that God tucked it there into the sand, just for me.

I also drove to the end of the Long Beach peninsula to a state park.  I parked in the lonely parking lot, wondered if perhaps I’d be mangled by a crazed killer, told myself that was crazy and took off down the path where I encountered swarms of crazed mosquitoes.   A half a mile into the 2.3 mile trek, I gave up and returned to the parking lot where I was relieved to find my car windows unshattered and the blacktop free of those who wish me harm.

Sesame Street Presents: Follow that Bird trailer

The Christmas Toy trailer

I Know You Know the movie Fury full I fired up my computer and added more words to my fledgling novel.  I brought my total up to 28,500 words–far short of the goal, but fortunately I’m not close enough to my deadline to panic.

I rented a DVD for a dollar and watched “Bride Wars.”

I walked on the beach again.  And again.  But I never found another sand dollar.  I did find a shore bird stranded on the shore.  His black body contrasted with his white eyelids which he blinked.  He rocked on his belly as if he were on an exercise ball.  Once, he got enough momentum going that he stretched out his wings and flapped enough to fly six feet.  Then he plopped back onto his downy belly and blinked.

I hope he didn’t die.  I don’t know enough about shore birds to know whether he was running away from home or whether he’d been abandoned or whether he’d fallen from the sky like a meteor.

When my family arrived on Wednesday, I determined to be fully present with them.  So, I did not write while they were at the cabin.  I took them for walks on the beach.  We took them thrift-store shopping, pinball playing, arcade-game playing, gift-store shopping.  I taught them how to play “Spoons” and we played an outdated version of “Outburst.”  (My categories would usually be something like “NFL Superbowl Losers” and “Television Shows from the 1950s that Melodee Has Never Heard of Before.”  They’d get “Things That Start With B” and “Items Found in a Wallet Store.”)

We climbed 69 stairs to the top of a lighthouse.  We climbed a long upward path to a second lighthouse.  We went swimming at an indoor pool.

The last afternoon we carried paraphernalia to the beach for some old-fashioned sand castle building.  The wind blew and blew–more ferociously than any other day of the week.  No matter.  Grace stood in her swimming suit at the edge of the surf.  Zach and Adam dug and rearranged sand into a castle.  I sat huddled in my beach chair, hood pulled over my hair, wind pushing sand into every seam of my clothes and every crevice of my bag.  Magazine reading?  Totally out of the question.  (Oh, and we had kites–easy to fly kites–and it was too windy for them.  The larger kite flew itself right out of my 16-year old’s hands–he ran over to report that he lost it–and then a boy up the beach retrieved it from the grassy dune.)  The boys had a great time with their sand castle–and then we sat for an hour, bundled in our beach towels, waiting for the tide to come and destroy their architecture.  And alas, the tide was too low to damage the castle.  In fact, the next day, the castle still stood.

Old Hag dvdrip

By the last day, there were two or three extra boys in the bunk room downstairs playing video games.  (A neighboring family in the neighboring cabin.)  Figures.

My family left on Saturday morning.  I cleaned in their wake, vacuuming up sand, finding stray socks under beds, doing laundry, scrubbing toilets, washing floors . . . we stay in a cabin with a great price, but that means we have to clean up for the next guests.  After doing most of the cleaning, I drove into town, bought a potato for dinner, then returned to the cabin for another stroll down the beach.

Office Space movie full

I read a book and a half, several magazines and enjoyed the feeling of silence and completely empty brain.  Then I wrote another 500 words and slept fitfully.

I cleaned up the rest of the cabin this morning, loaded up my car, found my place in a long string of cars leaving the beach on the two lane road.  Rain and traffic slowed me down, but eventually, I arrived home where I repeated the process:  unload the car, clean and report for duty in the laundry room.

[I wrote this in a hurry because the family wants to play Spoons.  I hope it made sense.]

My husband is one of those enviable people who literally clears off his desk at the end of the day.  Alas, I am not that kind of person.

Instead, within a few inches, I can touch the following items while sitting at my desk, working on my laptop.  (I am one of those people who must work at a desk, even though my laptop is portable.  As it turns out, I, myself, am not portable.)

The Items I Can Easily Reach:

Hiding Out dvd Ziploc bag containing debit card, driver’s license, various receipts from today’s Wild Waves adventure, seasons passes to Wild Waves, coins.

iPhone

Digital camera

Large fake pink diamond.  By large, I mean “the size of an apple.”

Thesaurus.

Coupon for $10 off any item at Famous Footwear, expired yesterday.

Stack of important papers I cannot seem to file, including kindergarten homework, magazines, expired coupons and Pampered Chef catalog.  And more.

Desk calendar.

Candy necklace.

Watch.

Scattering of sticky-notes.

Two painted rocks.

Uni-ball Signo pen, the only pen worth writing with.

Red bandana folded into a square which I use as a coaster so my icy drinks do not sweat on my desk.

Sesame Street Presents: Follow that Bird dvd

Chasing Amy hd

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Cheap plastic headband from Dollar Store.

Jacks and two rubber balls.

Lid to Snapple.

Basket full of bills.

Pottery full of pens and pencils, Ticonderoga only, thank you.

Beard trimmer.

Expired YMCA cards.

Television remote control.

Pack of thank-you notes.

You should know that all of these items do not belong to me.

* * *

Today I took two of my kids and two of their friends to Wild Waves.   There were easily three times the number of people in the park this week compared to last week.  I blame the gorgeous weather.  My left shoulder is inexplicably sunburned.

Last week, one of the kids I brought with me (not my kid), left his backpack sitting on a lounge chair three chairs away from mine.  Even as I sat there reading, it was stolen.  STOLEN!  I couldn’t believe it.  I had the boys check Lost & Found, just in case.  (I am weirdly optimistic at the craziest, most inappropriate times.)  No backpack.

Some time later, I happened to glance up just as a burly police officer walked by swinging a familiar-looking backpack.  I ran after him and asked about the backpack.  Sure enough, it had just been “found.”  He told me the boys could claim it at Lost & Found.

Which we did, later.  Turns out that someone had been stealing quite a lot of backpacks.  I could not believe how lucky we had been–not only had his backpack turned up without anything but two quarters missing, but during the first hour of the afternoon, I’d left my own bag tucked under a lounge chair–with my iPhone, cash, debit card, and MORE in the bag.  I’d learned a lesson without actually losing anything valuable–other than my belief in the goodness of my fellow waterpark visitors.

Today, fast forward to today.  One week later.

I rented a locker and did not leave my belongings unattended even for a second.

The Private Lives of Pippa Lee dvd

At some point, I looked up from my book and noticed a King County Sheriff and two security guys walk past.  A bit later, I looked up again and saw the same burly police officer from a week ago escorting a handcuffed woman out of the park–the same woman that was said to be stealing the week before.  I have never been so delighted to see someone in handcuffs.  [Insert your own joke here.]  And then came along three security guards and the sheriff who carried a backpack.

All that to say . . . well, you can’t trust anyone.  Also?  What is WRONG with people?

Christmas Story divx Finally, here are some things I wanted to say to complete strangers today, but did not:

1)   You are so sunburned!  You need to reapply your sunscreen!

Bringing Down the House movies

2)  I can see your butt crack.  Pull up your suit.

3)  Your pants are falling down!  Also?  I can see your underpants!

4)  You’re sitting in the path.  Seriously.  That’s the path.  Hello?  Do you park your car in intersections, too?

All in all, another successful outing.  I hope my kids remember this!