I Have a Headache and Can't Find The Drugs

So do you guys all remember how we know that summer is on its way? With injuries of some sort? I mentioned Owen tripping (twice) and thrusting his teeth through his lip (no stitches, by the way. "They" don't like to stitch mouths due to increased risk of infection. I learned this when Sam did a similar job on HIS mouth, at about the same age). Well, I forgot to mention that Eli also got injured over the weekend, though in a much more harmful venue. He and some friends were riding dirt bikes and he flew off and his friend ran over him. Poor kid, both of his legs are a scraped, bloody mess, and this morning the bruises are huge and purple. He also has bruises on his butt, but he wouldn't let me see those. This is the scary stuff about having kids. I mean, the father of his friend was there with them, they all had helmets on, father is a teacher at the school and the boys have been friends for several years now. Still, in an instant, everything can change, and it doesn't always have an acceptable outcome. It is so hard to send them out and let them live.


Hannah was talking to me on Sunday night about boys, and her exact words were, "Why is it that the skinny cheerleader types get any guy they want, and the normal girls like me can't have that?" It breaks my heart. Hannah is a cute girl, she has a nice figure, she is sweet and kind, yet the only people who want to go out with her are the "losers." The guys who are in trouble, the ones who have three tattoos and 6 piercings, the ones on probation. I didn't have an answer for her, and even now, two days later, I still don't. When you are 16 and a half, it doesn't mean anything when mom says that in 5 years it won't matter anymore. It means nothing when you say that those football dudes, the cool guys, the ones all the girls want, aren't going to be any different than her once high school is over. I use Steve as an example; he was Mr. Popular in high school, the kind of guy that could have anyone he wanted. In fact, at his 20 year reunion, better than half of the photos shown in the slide show had him in them. 10 years later he was a drunk. 10 years after that, he met me. And he would not have EVER asked me to go out with him in high school, yet here we are. I tell her that kindness and intelligence and respect will take her a lot further than a short skirt and low-cut skirts, but it really doesn't matter to her at this point. If I could just give her a little bit of what I know, none of these guys would even be a blip on her radar.

***As you must know, I scheduled this post since I am not at work today. I am blogging from my sister's house while waiting for her to get home so we can go have a small snack. There are ingredients for guacamole on the counter, but that doesn't sound good. Meh, whatever. I just like to revel in the quiet house, truly. The drive was excellent; I love to drive, and it was a beautiful night for it. Hardly any traffic on the freeway, long stretches where the only image in my rearview mirror was the road stretching out behind me, and the same ahead. I have to tell you that the image of serenity and beauty was completely shattered when I drove into town. Not the buildings or the traffic, not the streetlights nor the dreaded Wal-Mart looming. No, what ruined it was the image of two extremely large folks driving on a motorcycle that was about half the size they were. Now, I am no petite little flower myself so it wasn't their weight that bothered me. No, it was what they were wearing. Dude had on a wife-beater showing his, um, muscular (because large and jiggly just sounds so demeaning!) arms and those rayon shorts with the slit up each side. Dudette had on some equally lovely shirt but that kicker was the white see-through shorts. Did I mention they were both rather hefty? Yeah. She was either wearing a thong or her undies were really, really trying to hide, because eeeew. Just-eeew. I would have closed my eyes had I not been driving.

On that note, I am off. As you are reading this, I am in the middle of a class for work, one on which I have to test at the end of the day. This is kind of a big thing, in a department I am not at all familiar with, so I am actually going to have to pay attention and take notes in order to hopefully pass it. I have this class and one more in order to get a bunch of letters after my name on my business card, and I really want those letters. Keep your fingers crossed for me, will you?