Jun 302008
 

Definitely worth seeing. Even at the full-price theater. Pixar does not disappoint!

 

…even though I don’t see them…

When I left this morning, the kitchen was clean and tidy.

Came home this afternoon with two bags of groceries. Dirty dishes were scattered around the kitchen. The popsicle molds were both sitting empty on the counter.

While I started unpacking one of the grocery bags, a minor whirlwind entered the kitchen behind me. I heard rummaging in the other bag, exclamations of delight, and galloping feet. When I turned around, the bag was empty—the snacks it contained had disappeared. No one else was in the kitchen.

I know it must be my children, but it’s almost like I have a poltergeist.

My Butt Hurts

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Jun 252008
 

Last night at the YMCA I decided to try a cycling class. I used to like bike riding, back when I was in shape. I figured I’d follow the class for as long as I could, and then just sit and pedal steadily for the remainder of the class.

I lasted about ten minutes with their “sprints-and-uphills” program. Damn, I’m a wuss. What really did me in was the part where we cranked up the resistance and stood up to pedal. After that I was just trying to make it to the end of the class.

The worst thing was the bicycle seat. It was tiny. You’d think well-padded ass like mine would have no trouble sitting on anything, but that little bike seat was torture. I must be doing something wrong; nobody else seemed to mind ‘em.

So today my legs are falling off and my butt hurts. I may actually have bruising on my posterior. I don’t think cycling class is for me.

Well, shit.

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Jun 232008
 

George Carlin died yesterday.

That’s just full of suck.

Fuck, shit, piss, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, tits.

 

Last week my spousal unit, the Alpha Geek, noticed some of my Income Tax printouts on the table. “What’s this?”

“Printouts from my income tax class.”

“Are they tests, or something?”

“No, just homework assignments.”

“Why are they all covered in red writing?”

“That’s where I went back and corrected them after she posted the answers.”

He boggled at me. “Nobody actually does that. You just check what grade you got and move on to the next homework assignment.”

“But then I won’t learn what I did wrong!”

Yeah, I hate ‘em, but I still want to do it right, dammit.

Jun 192008
 

George & Brad get hitched

Yep, with gay marriage now legal in California, George Takei and his long-time partner Brad Altman are making it official. And I’m just all full of squee about it because I think it’s great when people care about each other, and these two obviously do.

Not that this will stop me from making stupid jokes like “Let me be Frank.”

Jun 172008
 

This morning I logged on to Blackboard to check my grade for the Week 2 assignment, and the Week 1 assignment had been changed from a 0 to 100. Looks like the instructor was willing to accept it, even though it was technically late.

I haven’t checked my school e-mail account yet, as my back is still up—I was all geared up to fight about it, and I don’t want to respond in that tone when the issue’s already been resolved.

Speaking of stress, The Artist has completed his driver’s ed class and is now chomping at the bit to get his learner’s permit. We’ll be going by the DMV tomorrow afternoon so he can take the written test. Just a head’s up in case you see fire raining from the heavens or the seas start to boil or anything.

*stabbity*

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Jun 162008
 

I uploaded my first homework assignment on its due date. Several days went by, and no grades were posted for it. I’ve never used Blackboard’s “digital drop box” to submit assignments, so I started to worry that I did it wrong.

E-mail to tax instructor, 6/13:

Hi there! I just wanted to make sure my Chapter 1 assignments got to you okay–I sent them via the digital dropbox before the deadline, but I haven’t seen them show up in the grades section on Blackboard so I was worried something went hinky. Sometimes the first week or so of class has bugs to iron out. Please let me know if there was a problem and I need to re-send them. Thanks!

Response, an hour later:

I normally do not post any grades until after the end of add-drop. I will try and get grades posted sometime this week-end. If I have problems with your assignment, I will send you an email so you can repost.

I had several questions about this week’s assignment. Posted to the discussion board, no answer. E-mailed the instructor, no answer. So I waited until the last possible day to upload them, hoping I’d get some of my questions answered before I submitted the assignment.

While tediously uploading the files, I noticed that the “digital dropbox” has an “add file” and a “send file.” Apparently just uploading the file is not the same as sending the file. I went through and sent all of the files, then went to check my grade.

Yep, got a 0 for the first assignment. Never heard anything from the instructor that there was a problem with them, or that she hadn’t received them. I’ve e-mailed her asking if this is going to be my grade, trying to be diplomatic in pointing out that I did ask her if she had received them so she knew there might have been a problem, including the quoted text of her reply where she said she would e-mail me if there was a problem with the assignment.

Gah. On top of the utter lack of response to my questions about the assignment, this just frustrates the living hell out of me. If I’m supposed to be learning this shit by myself, what am I paying tuition for? And if that 0 for the homework stands, I’m dropping this class and getting my money back; I’m not going to take a hit on my GPA due to poor communication.

*cough*

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Jun 122008
 

This morning there was a faint smell of smoke in the air. Throughout the day it got progressively worse. The air is hazy and thick with smoke; if you go outside for five or ten minutes your chest starts to burn. We’re at Code Red for air quality.

It’s not a local fire, but it’s bad: a wildfire in the Outer Banks started almost two weeks ago, and it’s still going despite the efforts of several hundred fire crews to put it out. It’s definitely spooky. I feel like I should be packing up the kids and bugging out for safer pastures—not because I actually think we’re in danger here, but because that constant forest-fire smell woke up the primitive lizard-brain at the top of my spine, and it’s saying “Fire! Get out now!”

 

Sharon transfers to Russ an insurance policy with a cash surrender value of $30,000 and a face value of $100,000 in exchange for real estate. Russ continues to pay the premiums on the policy until Sharon dies 7 years later. At that time, Russ has paid $14,000 in premiums, and he collects the $100,000 face value. How much of the proceeds is taxable to Russ? Why?

They’re all like that. Someone shoot me, plzkthx.

 

Today, right now in fact, my son is beginning the driving portion of his Driver’s Ed class.

I have mixed feelings about this:

On the one hand, I’m so excited for him. It’s a big step towards independence and he’s been looking forward to it since he was ten, at least.

On the other hand, I want to wrap that student driver car in foam padding and strap a bunch of flashing lights on it.

 

Sitting here, futzing around aimlessly on the web, I hear my youngest shouting in the next room:

“Use the Schwartz! Use the Schwartz, Lone Starr!”

 

This weekend was the North Carolina Special Olympics games. My eldest son competed on the Raleigh swim team, as he has for the last five or six years. This year he also competed on his high school’s swim team, and between the two he’s really improved his technique. He took first place for the 200 yard freestyle, with a time of 3:32.28.

He’s on the Special Olympics team because he’s autistic. I often think of the scene in Rain Man where Charlie is trying to explain his brother’s condition to the rural nurse. “He’s artistic?” she asks, confused. I often think of this scene because my son is both—he’s a high-functioning autist, and he’s also an extremely creative and artistic person. He draws in pencil, pastel, crayon and ink. He sculpts in clay, K’nex, and wire. In our hall hangs a crayon drawing he made of the space shuttle in orbit; the shuttle is shown top-down towards the earth, the way it really orbits, with the black underbelly facing towards the viewer. In the living room hangs a large tribal mask he made out of popsicle sticks. He also composes music on his computer, using software to weave tunes and instruments together.

There have been times, as he grew up, when I wondered if he would be able to move out and support himself when he reached adulthood. Sometimes he would seem completely disinterested in the world around him, even when it meant looking for traffic when crossing the street. Yet I was also aware that he would pay more attention when I wasn’t there to look out for him. I wanted to look out for him, but at the same time I wanted to give him room to stumble and make mistakes so that he could learn to look out for himself. I imagine it’s a balancing act faced by every parent.

But in the last year or so, he’s really blossomed. He’s begun taking an interest in, and responsibility for, the things going on around him. He took the initiative in getting himself signed up for Driver’s Ed, and was an active participant at his last IEP meeting. He’s making real progress in learning social skills, and more importantly he has realized that those skills can be learned, even if they don’t come naturally. His success on the swim teams has boosted his self-confidence tremendously.

I think every person, from cradle to grave, is a work in progress. We’re always changing and learning and, hopefully, growing. It’s really great to watch The Artist take the reins of his own development in hand and decide which way he wants to go.

Jun 062008
 

In order to take Business Tax in the fall, I have to take the prerequisite Income Tax over the summer.

Wake Tech isn’t offering Income Tax over the summer, only in the spring. So in order to get my Associate’s by the end of 2009 I hunted up another community college that offers the course online over the summer, checked with my advisor to make sure it would transfer, and signed up for that.

Community colleges typically enforce attendance requirements, because their state funding mandates it. For online classes, this generally means you must make a post to the class discussion board at least once per week. If you don’t, the instructor will remove you from the class roster—not to be a hardass about it, but because they have to.

Most online classes I’ve taken so far just ask you to either ask or answer a question on the discussion board. Essentially, “ping the board so we know you’re still there.”

The Income Tax class I’m taking is using the requirement to squeeze in a little more schooling. There are weekly questions that every student must answer. This week’s question is “Define personal deduction.”

Looking at the answers of my fellow students, I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who struggles with these concepts. Seriously, I totally support the Fair Tax just because it would mean I don’t have to fuck with this shit any more. But I think I gave a pretty good answer: “Personal deductions are expenses incurred by the taxpayer which are subtracted from adjusted gross income.”

Most of us said something along the lines of “deductions allowed by Congress.” Some of the answers confused me; I couldn’t tell if the poster didn’t understand the concept, or if the poster couldn’t express the answer clearly in writing. I don’t envy teachers.

Jun 052008
 

Whole family went to a ballgame tonight. At the turnstile my husband went first with the tickets, and I herded the kids along ahead of me so I could make sure we all stayed together.

The man at the turnstile took our tickets from my husband, and turned to count heads. “One, two, three, four,” he noted, punching our stack of tickets. “And I’ll give it to the lady in the rear.”

“But I hardly know you,” I protested, taking the tickets.

He started to say “Okay,” then realized what I’d said and laughed.

And the Durham Bulls won, 3-0.

*choke*

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Jun 032008
 

My online class of Individual Income Taxes started today, so I was finally able to log on and get the course information—specifically, which textbook I’ll need.

While I was on campus for the biology class (not needed for the accounting degree, I’m just interested in biology) I stopped by the bookstore to get my tax textbook.

$162. One hundred sixty-two dollars.

It’s got a software CD in it, which explains some of the cost, but holy shit. I just hope I can sell this thing back next semester.

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