**Before you do anything, go read this post from Cablegirl over at her place, 42. It is fantastic and I’ve been thinking of attacking the same book-banning, uber-Christian psychopaths for a while now, but I’m still reading the book in question and have not felt qualified.**

Okay, now that we got that out there, APRF, I want you all to know, has developed the magical ability of knowing exactly when I enter the room so that he can greet me with a, “Hey Kowie” before I get even six inches into the door. I really have no idea how he is capable of this, but today I left the room to go to the bathroom and check one of the kids’ mailboxes and the minute I stepped through 101’s threshold his little voice piped, “Hey Kowie, look what I made! A caw!”

He hadn’t even turned his little head, although if he had I would not have been shocked if it had looked something like this:

It scares me that this child has the knowledge of my presence down to that much of a science. He doesn’t even need to see me to know that I am there. And knowing that I’m there is like painting a giant neon target right on each of my eardrums. I swear, I get bombarded with over sixty forty hundred (this is Squirt and Trout’s equivalent of “a lot”) “hey Kowie“s every minute. Half the time it’s not even anything good. Seriously, I totally wouldn’t mind the mind numbingly repetetive “Hey Kowie” if it was followed by something along the lines of, “I’ve discovered a practical purpose for quantum physics!” or “I’ve been pondering the meaning of life and I have the answer for you right here!”
No, no, usually it something like, “Hey Kowie, I have to pee. Is it clean up time aftew I pee?”
“Yeah, I think it will be APRF.”
“Oh…well, I don’t have to pee.”
“Dude, you just told me you had to pee. I’m going to ask you to clean up regardless. I’ll wait till after you pee.”
“But Kowie, but, but,but….my penis changed its mind!”

I mean, I’ve always heard they have a mind of their own, but now, I have testimony from the source!

So sayeth Paul McCartney. If you know the song, you know that Paul goes on to say there’s nothing wrong with that, and he sings yet another love song.

And it’s funny how lately I find myself becoming a big fan of love songs. Well, it’s not really, funny. It’s ironic. I stopped using AIM because everybody’s profiles were so full of lovey dovey smarmy ooey gooey fuzzley things that it made me want to hurl. It still sort of makes me queasy and I continue to avoid AIM, but I often felt myself getting the same inclination to vomit when love songs came on the radio. It pissed me off, how everyone seemed to think they had this wonderful thing, when I knew (yeah I thought I was the only person truly in the know about love) that things never really happened like that. You never feel that strongly about a person, and even if you do, it’ll only turn right around and bite you in the ass as soon as you let your guard down.
Or else I’d hear a love song, think of all my “failures” in relationships and just cry.

Now, I find myself buying CDs that would typically never grace my Case Logic CD Visor. Lyrics magically catch my ear and make me think, “That’s exactly how I feel! Amazing!” And then I download it or get the CD and make my report to CB that I’ve found another good one (we both have this penchant for enjoying heart wrenchingly sad songs, i.e. Ben Harper’s “Another Lonely Day,” Damian Rice’s “9 Crimes,” Counting Crows’ “Long December” so I’ve been on a mission to find some more positively associable tunes for us).

Links to my more recent additions:
Alicia Keys “No One”
Paul McCartney “Calico Skies”

” Love doesn’t come in a minute,
sometimes it doesn’t come at all
I only know that when I’m in it
It isn’t silly, no, it isn’t silly, love isn’t silly at all.”
-Paul McCartney

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qhnQDbYZAU&rel=1]

After such a reflective post I think it’s only fair to add a little light heartedness to the blogmix.

(And yes, you’ve guessed it, the real reason is it’s a skype night with my CB)

Tonight on the way home from the grocery store (needed tofu and lettuce for the tofu, chickpea, tomato salad that will help me make up for my 4 day binge- Thanksgiving+menses=crazy carb eating spree) I stopped at Starbucks and got a tall decaf, sugar-free, skim gingerbread latte. Yes, that’s a mouthful, but as I left the store and got into my car I started reflecting on my drink choice and the larger implications thereof.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have been pretty self destructive in the past and that included doing everything to excess. Driving the speed limit? Forget that man, I can go as fast as I want as long as I don’t get caught. Quit smoking? Quitters never win dude, if I’m gonna die eventually anyway, might as well keep doing what I like. Drink less? I’m in college, drinking is the national college sport. Eat healthy? Psh, I have no idea when I’ll have money for decent food again, so I’ll eat what I want. I mean, I had an excuse for everything. Every excess, every little bit of self destructive behavior had some insane reason behind it. I overdid caffeine, nicotine, alcohol, calories, you name it all in the guise of “fun” and living my youth to its fullest.

And that was complete and utter bullshit.

At the time, I admit, my judgment was pretty skewed, but deep down I knew I was simply finding socially acceptable ways of sabotaging my life. And that brings me back to tonight’s coffee. After my Diet Dew induced pee fest, I realized I am pretty much done with caffeine, except perhaps an occasional cappuccino (do they do decaf in Belgium?). And for the first time ever I ordered a decaf latte. I used to splurge and get the largest, sweetest, most caffeinated coffee drink I could find. Tonight I was totally satisfied by the smallest, sugarless, caffeineless latte available at Starbucks. It made me feel better (warm drinks really help cramps…it’s like an internal heating pad) which was why I got it in the first place. I’ve made a lot of changes in my life over the past two years; I rarely drink, I don’t intentionally stay up too late, I quit biting my nails, I make a conscious effort to drive the speed limit (still working on my seat belt buckling), I haven’t smoked a cigarette in over 4 months, and now I’m tackling my last bad habit, the eating healthy. Yes, I have slipped. But this time I keep trying. This Thanksgiving break was a setback. Tomorrow I’ll start again.

I’m 26 years old and tonight, while I was driving home, sipping a tall decaf, sugar-free, skim gingerbread latte, I rejoiced in the fact that I’ve finally grown up.