Apparently you can be ready, able and (stupidly) willing to hand over university-comparable tuition for a private MIDDLE SCHOOL yet still not get in. Apparently there are sufficient enough of such idiots willing to do this that private middle school becomes so competitive that your child - who not incidentally happens to have an IQ that puts him in the 98th percentile of smarts compared to not just other ten year olds but all people on the planet - does not get in.
Wait. No. That does defy logic.
PERHAPS IT HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH THE EX HUSBAND BRINGING HIM TO HIS INTERVIEW AT SAID MIDDLE SCHOOL SO TIRED FROM A WEEKEND WEDDING IN OMAHA THAT HE BUILT A BED OUT OF THE CHAIRS IN THE ADMISSIONS OFFICE WAITING ROOM. I'm just saying. Perhaps.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Only Time Will Tell
Today at exactly 3:00 we get an email providing whether or not my son got into the private middle school I really like - BECAUSE IT IS NORMAL. That's right. That's the state of education in this fine town. There appears to be one normal middle school.
However . . .
You may recall this story. The weekend before the interview my ex-husband and his girlfriend took my son to a wedding in Omaha. I requested of ex-husband just one thing - that he bring son to interview clean and rested. Son was so tired that he made a bed out of the chairs in the admissions office waiting room.
So our chances are not feeling good. I know one psychologist who works with the schools who tells me that the school has already notified their choices and the notificaiton email is for the rest of us. I have had another school counselor tell me, in all honesty, that it wasn't good that he made a bed in the admissions office. I am very nervous.
If he doesn't make it into this normal school, our options are this alternative school he is already in or our local public school which was given a grade of D on an A to F scale by the agency that ranks them. Extreme clock watching today my blog friends. Extreme clock watching.
However . . .
You may recall this story. The weekend before the interview my ex-husband and his girlfriend took my son to a wedding in Omaha. I requested of ex-husband just one thing - that he bring son to interview clean and rested. Son was so tired that he made a bed out of the chairs in the admissions office waiting room.
So our chances are not feeling good. I know one psychologist who works with the schools who tells me that the school has already notified their choices and the notificaiton email is for the rest of us. I have had another school counselor tell me, in all honesty, that it wasn't good that he made a bed in the admissions office. I am very nervous.
If he doesn't make it into this normal school, our options are this alternative school he is already in or our local public school which was given a grade of D on an A to F scale by the agency that ranks them. Extreme clock watching today my blog friends. Extreme clock watching.
Friday, February 24, 2012
I'm Short!
Not since I thought that I was Winona Ryder in Reality Bites (pre shoplifting days) have I had short hair. And here we go again.
I am not sure my husband loves it but now I am Carey Mulligan cute. Oh yes I am.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Today, Oh Today
I woke up to an email telling me I was wrong about a legal issue, from a non-lawyer. Not that I can't be wrong because it happens.
However.
I'm a bit of a grump today. I dislike February 14th through March 18th. (After dinner on Valentine's Day from until 4 days after my son was born, my mom got really sick and never recovered. It was 11 years ago, yes, but you know how certain times of the year can do that to you.) I am tired of cold weather and gloves and scraping the car and painfully dry air. I have any overwhelming number of things to do. My house looks like a Hoarders after shot (you know, still not great but at least not imminently in danger of a condemnation). And everybody is bothering me.
I just cannot wait for that time tonight when we declare it done and crawl into bed and watch a show. We are in the middle of the first season of Californication. Also, I feel like I misled you about Portlandia. I thought the first two episodes were so good. Then they got okay. Now I find it unbearable. We are about 6 shows into Californication and it is way, way more cleaver.
However.
I'm a bit of a grump today. I dislike February 14th through March 18th. (After dinner on Valentine's Day from until 4 days after my son was born, my mom got really sick and never recovered. It was 11 years ago, yes, but you know how certain times of the year can do that to you.) I am tired of cold weather and gloves and scraping the car and painfully dry air. I have any overwhelming number of things to do. My house looks like a Hoarders after shot (you know, still not great but at least not imminently in danger of a condemnation). And everybody is bothering me.
I just cannot wait for that time tonight when we declare it done and crawl into bed and watch a show. We are in the middle of the first season of Californication. Also, I feel like I misled you about Portlandia. I thought the first two episodes were so good. Then they got okay. Now I find it unbearable. We are about 6 shows into Californication and it is way, way more cleaver.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Love Hurts
Are you ever in a meeting when you look down and consider just how much you love your shoes? I have some gorgeous Frye Harlow pumps. Dear God they are beautiful.
However.
Despite what the rest of the reviews say, they do not fit small. These are the most painful shoes I own. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, "Why do you not buy these shoes at the store instead of online?" Oh we may have a Nordstrom here, but it is the smallest Nordstrom ever.
However.
Despite what the rest of the reviews say, they do not fit small. These are the most painful shoes I own. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, "Why do you not buy these shoes at the store instead of online?" Oh we may have a Nordstrom here, but it is the smallest Nordstrom ever.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Nothing To See Here
Friday night, on our drive through Wyoming to Montana, it began to snow right outside of Ft. Collins. Then came a blizzard. In all my driving around the mountains, I have never experienced anything as frightening as our drive through Wyoming. We couldn't pull over because there was not enough visibility to ensure that someone would see us before they crashed into us. So we inched along. At times we were behind a snow plow, which you would think would be beneficial, but the winds were so strong that snow was just swirling in a dense, blinding cloud all around us. We couldn't see the lines on the road or the sides of the road. We didn't know if we were about to drive off a cliff.
Hahahahahaha. As if.
The next day, when the snow stopped, we were able to see what we couldn't see the night before. Miles and miles and miles of nothing. No cliffs. No trees. No Stuckey's. No McDonalds for road fries and strawberry milkshakes. NOTHING. If you ever want to drive between Colorado and Montana, I will save you the trouble because the following is what there is to see: Nothing.
There was this one "town" where we pulled over for gas and the main street consisted of, in addition to the gas station, a middle school, a gun store, a bear taxidermist and a church.
I have said it before, but I say it now with renewed vigor. I NEVER need to see snow again as long as I live. It's terrifying.
Hahahahahaha. As if.
The next day, when the snow stopped, we were able to see what we couldn't see the night before. Miles and miles and miles of nothing. No cliffs. No trees. No Stuckey's. No McDonalds for road fries and strawberry milkshakes. NOTHING. If you ever want to drive between Colorado and Montana, I will save you the trouble because the following is what there is to see: Nothing.
There was this one "town" where we pulled over for gas and the main street consisted of, in addition to the gas station, a middle school, a gun store, a bear taxidermist and a church.
I have said it before, but I say it now with renewed vigor. I NEVER need to see snow again as long as I live. It's terrifying.
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