This Was The Week That...

• ...my father discovered blogs. He not only told me a few comments he "would have made" (what stopped him, I do not know), but actually made his first comment on Jill's blog (this post and the following one, by the way, offer some lovely kids pictures).
• I vowed to use the phase "making out like a meteor was headed their way". Expect to hear it soon, am just waiting for the proper context. As long as there are assemblies at school for kids to ditch, it should happen.
• It was the week of the saveobu petition. Questions and criticism of OBU has been all the buzz in my blogring. I sent my sister (also an alum) the link and I was suprised how quickly she signed and sent the link to friends. It was strange for my blogs and my sister to be abuzz about the same issue. I would encourage you to read the site when it reopens (it has been shut down, I assume, to deal with some ugliness on the message board and abuse of the petiton). My response to the petition is not kneejerk liberal rage.
• Sinead O'Connor's "The Last Day Of Our Acquaintance" ran through my head all week. Early this week, I opened up some grape tomatoes and thought to myself "This is the last day of these tomatoes" and have all week tried to write lyrics for the rest of the song about veggies gone bad.
• The Leg Wrestler began his series of time travel jokes. They aren't funny, really. I will mention historical figures and he references imaginary conversations he has had with them.
• My parents have announced that they are planning to sell their home and downsize. I have started to compose applications for reality TV shows. "While my parents have given me their passive-aggressive tendencies, penchant for procrastination and weight gain disposition; they have also taught me about humor, patience, and generosity. Please Ty, help them get the crap out of that house."
• After telling my high school Sunday school teacher/mentor that I have started knitting, she declared me "The Ideal Woman"! That's right, the woman who nursed my teen angst, allowed me to ask "the unaskable" about church, and the coolest dresser I have known called me ideal. I shall remind myself of this status when I fall up the stairs of my classroom.

Here, my friends, is to a new week.