You know it’s a hot day when you can drink your Starbucks Chai Creme Frappuccino and you never reach the point where it’s just a lump of chipped ice. The thing melted faster than I could drink it. That never happens, unless it’s 98 degrees outside. Which it just happens to be. And in Ohio, it’s never a dry heat.

But onto cooler matters. It’s time for a winner to be chosen in my book giveaway! I decided the best way to choose a winner was to leave it up to Cordy. The kid doesn’t read my blog, so she’s about as unbiased as they come.

I put each person’s name on a slip of paper, and put all the slips into Cordy’s favorite pink hat. Then, I put all of the slips back inside the hat after Cordy snatched the hat away from me and plopped it on her head, sending a cascade of white paper down her shoulders as she ran.

Cordelia has never been asked to participate in a giveaway drawing before, so she was a little unsure of the rules. Holding tightly to the hat, I asked her to pick a piece of paper from the hat.

However, she grabbed a handful of papers, and then sat down on the floor with them to look at each one. (Also snagging the hat and putting it back on, of course.) I hoped that she would just hand me a name, but no luck. She started picking up individual slips, and hiding them in different places, while I followed along behind her to not lose any of them.

15 minutes later, still with no clear winner and starting to feel like Florida’s election board, I begged the child to give me a name. Any name. Finally, we had a success. She handed me a piece of paper. And then one more. And then tried to eat the next one. (I guess that was the stopping point.)

The first name given to me was Mrs. Chicky, who, I’m guessing, will be choosing the book about Norman, the yellow lab. But Cordy could not settle for one winner, and so our other lucky winner is: Dana! So, Dana, which of the other two books would you like?

I’m keeping whichever book is not picked, and as soon as money gets better I will probably be looking into purchasing a few more of the books from The Benefactory. Congrats to the two winners, and e-mail me your addresses and choices so I can send you your books!

I’m having one of those days. It’s Monday, it’s hot, my period started and is giving me hell, I’m bloated, and I’m generally in a grumpy, glum mood. On the plus side, at least I’ll have my period done with before Blogher. But for today, I have lots of little things to talk about, but nothing cohesive, so it’s a day for bullets.

• Apparently technology and I are not getting along today. When I arrived at work, I tried to log on to one of the programs I need, and it won’t work. Then I tried to print a student’s schedule, and the printer isn’t working. Both appear to be working just fine, but they won’t work for me. I thought it was a weird coincidence until I tried to get a soda from the vending machine, and the machine wouldn’t give me a soda, despite looking like nothing was wrong with it.

• Cordy has reached a new milestone: basic manipulation. Now, whenever she does something that hurts me – kicks me, bites me, hits me, etc. – before I can even fully utter the phrase “No, we don’t [hit, kick, etc.]!” she hugs me and says in her most loving, gentle voice, “Baeey-aah.” (Her word for hug. I have no idea where she got that word.) How is that for emotional manipulation? Child, you can’t hit me and then hug me right away and expect it to all be forgiven. Especially when you do it all again as soon as you finish the hug.

• We watched the space shuttle land this morning online, since none of the news channels were willing to break away from Israel to cover it. Being way too emotional thanks to my period, I had tears in my eyes when I saw it break through the clouds. When I was younger I wanted to be an astronaut – I even went to Space Camp in 7th grade. So I was overjoyed to see a successful landing. I pointed to the shuttle on the screen and said, “See, Cordy? That’s a space shuttle. It takes people into space, closer to the stars.” Cordy looked at it with a smile, and then pointed and said, “shut-tle!” I was so proud of her for saying that. I’m already wondering if they make flight-suits in her size.

• I’ve officially been off my antidepressants since mid-June, and I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. It’s nice to be off the drugs, but I’m constantly wondering if I really am OK. I recently developed a back problem that bothers me off and on. It’s not painful, but it feels like restless leg syndrome, but only on the left side of my upper back. When it’s affecting me, if I’m not moving my left shoulder, it tingles and there’s an overwhelming urge to move. I can’t even work myself into a panic thanks to WebMD, since this seems to be a rare symptom. I’m wondering if I have pinched a nerve, or if this could be some rare disorder as a result of going off my antidepressants? Never mind, it looks like I did manage to work myself into a worry, even without the help of WebMD.

Anyone else having a bad day today?

Tomorrow I will have the winner of my book giveaway!

When you sit in the first meeting of your Chemistry lab class, and write a blog entry longhand…you might be a blogging addict. Or just really bored. Or both.

The following post was written out on notebook paper as I endured the first evening of my Chemistry class two weeks ago.

He’s the instructor you dread. CHEM 100, basic Chemistry. Remedial chemistry, honestly. You try not to think of the stereotypes, but you can’t avoid it. He’s short, rounded, and balding. Large glasses, oversized t-shirt, loose jeans, tennis shoes, and a high nasal voice. Worst of all: an unbridled love for chemistry, and he expects you to be just as in-love with it also.

“Don’t think you’ll be getting out of a lab early. We’ll be here the full 4 hours each time.” Oh God. You must be trying to torture me, small man. He practically bounces with joy as he opens the glassware cabinet and explains 250 mL beakers, Erlenmeyer flasks and graduated cylinders.

I had expected to get out of class early tonight. It was the first class, first lab, and the only thing listed on the syllabus was an orientation and a safety talk. I figured we’d be here an hour, maybe an hour and a half tops. Cordy was left with her grandpa, and I promised him I’d be back to pick her up before bedtime. Oh how wrong I was.

The IOD (Instructor of Doom) took 2 hours just to show us each item we’ll be using in the lab. I really didn’t need a ten minute explanation of the purpose of a medicine dropper, or 25 min. on the basics of the metric system. My mind was already wandering before he got to discussing the Bunsen burners. (And for the record, if you’ve lost me when showing off fire, you’re really dull.)

I completed the safety quiz while he talked, even though we were supposed to answer it after viewing the safety video. “State one rule about Bunsen burner use.” Uh, don’t set you lab partner on fire? “State one rule about appropriate dress for the laboratory.” Oh, I know this one: no mini-skirts – they’ll make geeky instructors sweat and steam up their goggles. “When should you mix chemicals?” When they involve soda and rum?

After I finished the safety quiz, I started working on next week’s lab, and after that I took out my notebook and started this blog entry. Yes, officially, I am blogging in Chemistry class. Would that qualify as an answer for, “You know you’re a crazy blogger if…”?

After the 2hr. object demo, we then had to go through the rules of the lab in slow, painful detail. Just when we thought we might be nearing the end, we were subjected to a circa 1989 high school safety film for chemistry lab. Oh, if only I could have snapped a picture to show you the big hair the kids in the film were sporting! I think the girls’ hairspray consumption was far more dangerous around a Bunsen burner than anything I could possibly do.

I’m not a horrible student, I swear. I wish I could be interested in what he’s saying, but it’s so basic it’s boring me to tears. Remember my post about being bored in elementary school? This is worse. Thanks to the wonders of college bureaucracy, I must take this class before I can take the Organic Chemistry class I really need for my nursing program. I’ve been out of school for more than 5 years, which at this college requires an automatic placement into CHEM 100, despite my pleas that I know this subject well and don’t need this class. There is supposedly a placement test, but I have yet to get a return call or e-mail from anyone who knows about it.

So, I’m forced into this class, and I’m bringing you all along for the ride. Besides, finding the humor to pass along to you just might keep me sane.

See? Offline blogging, driven by pure boredom. I feel bad for my fellow students, who had nothing else to fall back on when sitting through that nightmare. I had my second class last night, and we completed two lab experiments. I fully expected that this would be a one-time offline blogging experience, but after class #2, I now have another hand-written post for you at some point.

It has officially reached 2nd Circle of Hell hot and humid here in Ohio, and the forecasts call for it to be somewhere near the 7th Circle of Hell hot by Sunday. And with a car with no air conditioning (Aaron’s car has A/C, but mine is broken), it limits what you can do. So we haven’t done much.

I could bore you with one of those, strangely long, “I can’t think of anything to write today” posts, but instead I thought I’d share some pictures of how we’ve been spending our summer days.

First, a few weeks ago we spent a lot of time at Com Fest. It’s the yearly community festival held over a summer weekend, and it’s one of the biggest parties in town. Lots of hippies, lots of music, lots of social action groups, and lots of breasts (because it’s legal to be topless in Columbus). Aaron’s parents help organize it (hippies), and by the number of pictures Aaron’s dad took of Cordy, you’d have thought she was a celebrity.

Next, on days like today, there’s nowhere else to go except to water. Luckily, Mommy off the Record gave us a fab tip on a cool pool from Target. Today we invited Cordy’s friend B. over to play as well.


And, if it’s too hot to do any of that? We stay inside and dress up.

More to come tomorrow, when I will finally post my first handwritten blog post. I just started a new quarter of classes, and let’s just say Chemistry lab was so boring it made me blog on paper during class.

Do you believe in astrology? I’ve always been a half-hearted believer. When I was younger I’d take the time to read my daily horoscope in the newspaper, just to see if I was supposed to have a good or bad day. Usually at the end of the day I’d think back and laugh at how nothing it predicted came true. Either that or how vague some horoscopes were to make them always true. You will have an eye opening experience today. I did wake up, so I guess that counts as eye-opening, eh?

My horoscope was always difficult to figure out, too. I was born on the summer solstice, which also happens to be the cusp between two signs: Gemini and Cancer. (Interestingly, Cordy was also born on a cusp.) Now, if you know anything about those two signs, you’d know they were as different as, well, air and water. The Gemini profile is a party girl, outgoing and sharp-witted, always up for late night drinks and socializing. Cancer, on the other hand, is a shy, introverted homebody who would rather be alone with a good book than anywhere near a party.

So what does that make me? An extrovert who likes to stay home? An introvert who really wishes she could get out more?

I’ve started to realize that maybe there is something to this astrology. No, no, I’m not rushing out to buy incense and a copy of my star chart. But I do have this strange dual-personality that often tears me in two directions. I am a homebody, and I do tend to be shy at first. But I also look at those outgoing, don’t-have-a-care-in-the-world people and wish I could be like them. And once I get warmed up at a party, well, I can really talk your ear off.

I somehow got the courage up to join a sorority in college. And in that sorority, I was deemed one of the quiet ones. I politely declined the annual pilgrimage to Mardi Gras, I was always one of the first to leave a party, and frat parties – oh, frat parties – well, let’s just say I was a bundle of nerves when dragged to those.

But yet, when it came time for Sorority Rush, when hundreds of new freshman were making the rounds to hopefully be picked to join a sorority, I was the one my sisters pushed to the front when it came time to greet each group of girls that came to the sorority suite. Why? Because in those painfully small 15 minute meetings, I could somehow find common ground with every single girl, and by the end of that 15 minutes, we were all chatting away like old friends. (Note: Normally, these sessions are downright dreadful, and can often result in a cluster of girls staring at each other with nothing to say.)

To be honest, I have no clue how I did it. I guess being put in an awkward situation, forced to converse with a group of strangers who were judging you as much as you were judging them somehow brought out my inner extrovert. It’s as if I was backed into a corner by hungry lions, and somehow miraculously developed the ability to be a liontamer. And after each session, I was exhausted from my brief time as The Girl Everyone Could Talk To.

So I guess I am a mix of Gemini and Cancer. I’m terrified of meeting all these fabulous women at Blogher, and then finding out they’re all so much cooler than me and hiding in my hotel room the remainder of the conference. (After all, I’m practically a midwestern farm girl compared to all these glamorous East and West coast bloggers!) But at the same time I’m so excited at the chance to meet them, that I will certainly screw up the courage to talk to everyone. I can only hope that if I am a bore, someone will please shut me up, especially if I’ve already consumed alcohol. Because with a drink in me, I can talk for hours.