Desperate Nerds are Funny Looking

So, I play in a gamer group.  At the moment, I'm the only girl.  I'm also the DM.  For those of you that aren't gamers, DM stands for Dungeon Master.  Before you get some grand idea of kinky fun, I should probably also say that sometimes I'm called the GM- Game Master.  Basically, I'm the story teller for the game.

So, today, the guys came over to game in the Wednesday night game-which I don't take part in, only the Hubby does- and they were visibly agitated.

One of our regular players quit.  That drops us to three regular players and five part-timers.  Apparently, this isn't good enough for the guys.  They're terrified that somewhere in my vaginal-and-overly-hormonal story telling that I will kill their characters.

I was instructed to find new players to round out the party.

**shakes head**

This reminds me a bit of some of the indie-gamer-mockumentaries.  I can easily see my gamer-boys as the guys in Dorkness Rising. 

The Gamers: Dorkness Rising

The Week of Single Parenting Begins Anew

Every third week, my husband goes "on call" for his company.
I hate "on call".
My Hubby works for a wireless company that will remain nameless but would probably be revealed should I mention that my phone is a Droid.  Oh wait, I wasn't supposed to say that.

But, anyway, Hubby goes on call and my life screeches to a halt. 
Being on call means that Hubby must have a working vehicle from 5pm to 8 am.  So, any and all errands I run must happen between 9am and 4pm--- and during the weekend I'm not allowed to go anywhere at all.  And when I do go out, I can't go more than five minutes away.  This is all to prevent the odd chance that he "might" get called with an outage. 

Does it happen?  Yeah, from time to time.  But, normally the things he's called for are things that were already on the schedule or were expected such as an install or a freak storm.

To make matter worse- on call weeks are automatic night shifts.  This means he's gone all night and asleep all day.  And, since he's injured his knee, he sleeps on the couch so he doesn't have to climb the stairs to our room.

ASLEEP ALL DAY ON THE COUCH WITH THREE KIDS UNDER TEN IN THE HOUSE!!!!
So, I can't go anywhere to take the kids.  THE LOUD, NOISY, WHINY, ACTIVE KIDS.

This is the very definition of insanity.

Turning Japanese

I would LOVE to move to Japan.  With or without the family, if an opportunity came up for me to move there, I'd be on the next plane out.

My husband thinks it's funny- I'm horridly allergic to seafood- ALL seafood.  And yes, even with this allergy, I want to move to a country who thrives on seafood.

I love the tradition.  I love the dichotomy of old meets new.  I love that women are traditionalists in their home roles.  (Yes, I'm a huge feminist- and I'm a follower of gender roles, but that's a whole different post.)  I love the religions, the ettiquette and the formality of it all.  I even love the whole technologically advanced hand in hand with the ancient wonders of nature.


I think mainly I love the simplicity that is bourne from the frenetic.

I cook a lot of Japanese food.  Two of my favorite cookbooks are In the Japanese Kitchen, and Food from Japan.  To get the kids involved, I started making bento lunches.  We watch a lot of anime. 

Yes, I'm a Japan geek.  I don't want to go to Japan and be one of those tourist types that wants to do all this "traditional" stuff.  I want to go and fit in.

A Mom's Ingenuity at the Tennis Courts

Today the geeklets (my older kids Chaos and Evil, specifically) had tennis lessons over at Wheeling Jesuit University.  I enforce tennis lessons because a) I'm apparently a mean and evil Mom-dictator who paid attention when the kids promised they'd at least attempt three lessons each before quitting and b) these are free through the local recreation department and I'm all about taking advantage of the word "free".
It was hot. To that effect, I'd brought three bottles of water that had been in the freezer over night.  I also brought some curtains and hung them against the side of the tennis court to create shade.  There is NO shade to be found there.  I had a ton of the other Moms stare at me as I sat, knitting and eating rice balls in the comfort of the shade, waiting for the hours of tennis to end.  I cheerfully invited anyone who passed by to sit and then offered them sunscreen when they refused.
Between lessons the kids ate their way through a tray of rice balls (onigiri) that had been decorated to look like baby chicks.  I don't know whether it was the cute food or the audacity I had to hang curtains on the tennis court, but I was definitely stared at today.

And, you know what?  It doesn't bother me in the least.  I'm not one of those Moms that really cares what other Moms think of me.

You see, I'm a pragmatic person.  What do I mean by that?  Well, let's use an example that really happened to me.  In college, a friend's desk lamp wouldn't turn off.  This was the kind that was built in to the wall so it couldn't just be unplugged.  He tried the switch many times in vain before calling the dorm supervisor.  The dorm supervisor tried several times and finally put in a call to the facility manager.  In the meantime, everyone was panicking because it was almost time for curfew and he couldn't get his light off.  They started making arrangements to change his room for the night.  I wander over and finally suggest with a bit of derision that they could always unscrew the light bulb.  You'd never believe that NONE of them had even thought of that as a method for turning off the light until the switch could be repaired.  Like I said, I'm a pragmatic person.

My parenting techniques are pretty much what I'd consider "pragmatic" as well.  They get results with the fewest possible bribes, tantrums, or other side stepping techniques.  (That's not to say that there's not a time or place for bribes or tantrums.)

So, that being said, I needed shade at the tennis courts.  So, very pragmatically, I hung curtains and made shade.  And I got stared at like a weirdo.

How on Earth did they ever guess I was a weirdo?  I promise, I kept that bit of info on the down-low.