How Many Members of the Bush Administration Does it Take to Change a Light Bulb?
 
The Answer is TEN:
 
1. One to deny that a light bulb needs to be changed,
 
2. One to attack the patriotism of anyone who says the light bulb needs to be changed,
 
3. One to blame President Clinton for burning out the light bulb,
 
4. One to tell the nations of the world that they are either for changing the light or for total darkness,
 
5. One to give a billion dollar no-bid contract to Halliburton for the new light bulb,
 
6. One to arrange a photograph of Bush, dressed as a janitor, standing on a step ladder under the banner "Light Bulb Change Accomplished",
 
7. One administration insider to resign and write a book documenting in detail how Bush was literally "in the dark",
 
8. One to viciously smear #7,
 
9. One surrogate to campaign on TV and at rallies on how George Bush has had a strong light-bulb-changing policy all along,
 
10. And finally...  One to confuse Americans about the difference between screwing-in a light bulb and screwing the country.

Many thanks to the wickedly weird folks on RandomFandom.

Jakey's having a rough time right now. More on that when I can see properly, but quickly I wanted to share this little moment, from around 5:30 tonight. Jacob was drawing pictures, sitting on our bed. He's in a phase of drawing incredibly detailed transportation-themed pix; mostly CTA stuff like buses and trains. He draws the whole El system map in full color and everything.

So tonight he drew this incredible bus picture, and it's got everything from the bell-cord (which he calls the "Dinger") to the screws in the hubcaps. So I kind of made a fuss over him, trying to explain how being able to draw on paper what you see in your head is a very special talent.

"Everyone has something they're really good at, and sometimes they're better than other people. For example, Daddy is really talented with music and computers, and making you and Danny laugh. I'm really good at, um, cooking, at least when I do it," I said.

".... and buying things," my little stinker chimes in, not even looking up from his drawing.

That "pooooh" sound you just heard was DH, who was sitting on the bed with us, spitting the thermometer from his mouth across the room.

I'm watching the Veep debate and praying that Cheney loses his temper. It's a shame he gets to sit down the whole time.

8:05 pm: Cheney has his arms crossed in front of him on the table. I love the fact that, right out of the gate, Edwards accuses Cheney of "still not being straight with the American people." Go get 'em, Johnny!

8:06 pm:  Because of the way the candidates are seated, the only way to shoot them is from an angle, which is really wierd. It makes them seem shifty since they never look toward the camera. Meanwhile, Cheney rarely looks up from the table when he speaks. Why won't he look up when he talks?

8:14 pm: Cheney is trying to show how pro-women he is by quoting statistics about women in America. He couldn't sound less passionate and interested; he's just reciting lines. Meanwhile, Edwards is listening much more carefully than any of us in the audience and he's slamming the shit out of Cheney.

I didn't get nervous until this morning. I left the house without bringing several things I'd packed into a bag, which was hanging from the doorknob. I've been dropping things and tripping over my words all day, and even making more typos than usual.

Tomorrow, I'm having my second round of eye surgery. No, it's not laser, though I wish to hell that would work well for me. I'm having my eyes surgically straightened for the second, and hopefully the last, time. I had this done in 1997 and it worked out really well, until I was in a nasty car accident in 2001 and suffered a minor head injury. Within two months of the accident, it was confirmed that I was seeing double again.

The first operation required incisions in the inside corners of my eyes. This time out, they're going in to the outside corners. Close-up, I'm going to look like I got eye donations from the Bride of Frankenstein.

Probably the worst part of eye surgery for me is not being able to use my eyes for a few days afterwards. I vaguely recall DH having to guide me from the car into our apartment last time, and I don't think I read, watched TV, etc for days. According to my surgeon, I reported pain and inability to open my eyes comfortably the day after surgery last time. Eeek. This time, I'm stocked up on Nyquil and leftover Tylenol with Codeine (baby 1, baby 2, wisdom teeth, wherever else I've gotten it) and I'm going to beg DH to dose me every four hours until I've slept off the worst of it.

What's truly fun is that I get to be at work Sunday night for an installation. Woo hoo! I'll get to wear my ugly-ass old-man shades over my glasses for that one. However, a week or two later, I get to wear just contacts again. Boy, will that be a relief. Anyway, pray for me....

We had a pretty good couple of days this weekend. The kids were pretty easygoing, I got my hair cut and colored, and then, to celebrate getting to go out on a date with DH, I stopped in to the Honeysuckle Shop.

I should explain that it's been at least two years since I've purchased anything pretty/sexy for my husband's enjoyment. I had been thinking for some time of heading into the Honeysuckle, since it's owned and operated by one of my very favorite bloggers. Flea's blog is a hoot because it's half full of funny stories about running an adult store, and half full of funny and touching stories of her two kids.

As luck would have it, I found both a gorgeous white chemise and Flea at the shop, and we launched into a great conversation that started with my date with my hubby and morphed into mom stories. Time flew as we chatted amiably, and it wasn't until a man came in to do some shopping that I realized we were sharing stories of our eldest sons' emotional issues while I stood with my back to a wall full of penis-themed paraphrenalia. (Peniphrenalia?) I decided to let Flea get back to the business of people gettin' busy, and bade her a cheery farewell.

Flea, if you're reading this, I was so pleased to meet you finally. However, I had an allergic reaction Saturday night after bowling, so I didn't even get to try on my new purchase for DH yet....

I keep thinking of that Prince song, Pop Life, but my friends have this great biz. Check 'em out!

Oh, please, please, order some fucking wrapping paper from my kids so the school doesn't have to cut scholarship funding! I hate, hate, hate asking for money. However, that doesn't prevent me from putting the link to Sally Foster on my blog and adding that Danny's number is 127329.

At least the school is a nonprofit so I can feel marginally better about this. And I do order tons of the stuff every year; it's actually really good wrapping paper, and the candies are similar to what Crate sells every Christmas season.