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03-14-2002 @ 11:22 p.m.
Following Up

Tomorrow (today if you're reading this on Friday) is my old boyfriend's birthday. I have this disconcerting ability to remember meaningless dates forever and ever and ever. Date of my first kiss? August 27, 1978. (The boy killed himself 3 years later but I'm pretty sure the two events aren't related.) Date of my first date with aforementioned boyfriend, Scott? November 22, 1981. Date of his wedding? November 22, 1987. Isn't that interesting? Date of first date with Gary? December 18, 1980. Gary's birthday? May 4. Date of first date with Ed? February 1, 1985. Date of first kiss with Ed? February 3, 1985. That's just the tip of the iceberg, folks. I won't bore you with the rest of the date details.

Joey and I both got clean bills of dental health. I didn't even have to see the actual dentist--just the hygienist. Yay me! Joey has perfect teeth, too. Nary a cavity in her mouth. That's one of my big parenting goals--to keep her teeth cavity free until she's outta here. After that, she's on her own.

I stopped by to visit Grandma for an hour today. I haven't been paying a lot of attention to her lately because I've been just been monumentally overcommitted. And then she gets really needy and I don't respond well to needy. I should do a better job of keeping up with her. I think things will be better--she's feeling better lately and is getting more active. She was having trouble with vertigo and the prescription for that is meclazine and that makes her sleepy so she's been sleeping a lot and so we haven't had much opportunity to visit even when I've been available. At least it has forced Amy to kick in and do some granddaughtering.

Remember the preschool teacher to was doding responsibility for scratching my car? Her neighbor suggested that I leave her a note with my name and phone number and ask her to call, giving her one more chance to do the right thing. Here's the note I left her:

Dear Kim,

My name is Lobotomybabe. I am the person whose car you scratched last week (Wednesday, Mar 6) when I was visiting the Griffiths. I would like you to call me or my husband Ed (503-555-1234) so that we can resolve this matter. I’m sure you will take care of this in a timely manner, being a teacher who is entrusted with teaching important concepts like responsibility and truthfulness to preschoolers. You certainly wouldn’t want this episode to result in negative PR for your excellent preschool. We look forward to hearing from you very soon.

Think I laid it on too thick? I don't care. I was so mad after she blatantly and obviously avoided me last week when I went over there to take pictures and give her the chance to make right. But she blew it. She knows it, too. Delyn said that she wouldn't be able to recommend that school in good conscience anymore if the teacher didn't make good on this. Delyn teaches kindermusic and piano lessons and lives right next door to this school. Over the years, she has sent dozens of folks to that school (including her own son) and recommended it enthusiastically when asked (which was often). That recommendation will go negative right quick if this isn't taken care of and Kim will know why. Anyway, I'll keep you updated.

I see that Victoria's Secret is adding a plus-sized/full-figure line. I went there a few years ago looking for a bra. I wanted a seamless bra in 38D. It's not a small size, no, but it's not gigantic either. The snooty salesclerk came over to ask if she could help me while I was looking through the D-cups and started picking up bras and refolding them and putting them away (they were like that when I got there--I promise). She asked me what I was looking for and I told her. She sniffed and said "Well, there aren't many bras here in that size, let alone a seamless." And that was it. She didn't try to help, she just gave me attitude like I was some 4-boobed cow asking for support instead of a curvy sex goddess, to quote Weetabix. ::g:: Now, apparently, they have a lot of bras in that size. Seamless even. I'm not sure ifI can go in there again, though. What if they have one of those signs like at Disneyland, only it says "You must be this skinny to shop here" with an outline of C@list@ Flockh@rt?

Tomorrow I fly this coop for a weekend at the coast with my homies. We're going to scrapbook, take pictures, color our hair, eat whatever we like, burp loudly, fart loudly (at a distance, of course), and scratch where it itches. It'll be like we're men.

Sunday, I'll return and write an entry reflecting on my first anniversary of writing this diary. Have a great weekend, y'all.


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