12 Things

About a month ago, SRH and I passed our 12th wedding anniversary. To honor the day, SRH did a “12 things” about our marriage post. He then went on to say how hard this post was for him to write. Being the hyper-competitive person I am - which is to say I’m not at all competitive, but it seems to fit here - I immediately said I’d also write a 12 things post. And mine would be better.

So here goes.

12 Things About Our Marriage

Thing 1

We travel well together. No pit stops on a road trip. (Because any decent person would have peed before we left.) No annoying pre-planning what we’re going to do and see. We decide when we get there, and we don’t have any regrets.

Of course this perfect perspective on traveling was all mucked up when little people entered the picture...

Thing 2

Opposites attract: He’s tall. I’m short. He has adequate depth perception. I 've hit the garage with the car more times than I can count. He’s laid back. I’m...not. He is enamored of the taste/effect of Mt. Dew. Caffeine makes me sick. He regularly loses things. I have a uterus.

What a wacky pair.

Thing 3

We are eerily similar: We are mountains/hiking people vs. beaches/sunbathing people. We’re both homebodies. We both hate peppers and strawberry ice cream. We both think I’m right most of the time (right?), and we both know that we’ve bitten off more than we can chew with this second kid of ours.

Thing 4

Wherever he grows, I’m growing, too. And vice versa. Good to be on this journey together, then.

Thing 5

We read out loud to each other. People think this is weird. I don’t get that. We’re going on year 4 of rocking a baby to sleep, we gotta have something to do.

Thing 6

In 12 years of marriage, we have never lived further than 3 blocks from a Dairy Queen. I appreciate a partner that respects my priorities.

Thing 7

We’re cat people. Of course we don’t have any cats because Zane is deathly allergic, but cat people are cat people whether there are cats around or not.

We’re cat people.

Thing 8

We recently went to Zane’s Open House at school without him. Zane was feeling a bit poorly, but we didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see what’s happening in his classroom. I will admit it became a bit awkward when we had to start grabbing other kids to explain some of the stuff in the room, but it all worked out.

Thing 9

We will go on wild goose chases together.

The day I wanted 10 boxes of lime green dye? He went with me to 4 Jo-Ann Fabrics and 2 Michael’s craft stores.

Need Tomy trains for a four year old? You better believe we went to every train store in the city before buying them online from a Japanese company. (holy shipping and handling charges)

He went with me to the other school. The lottery school. The school Zane didn’t get into even though it’s only 3 blocks away from our house. And brand new. And goes all the way to 8th grade. Even though we both knew the visit was pointless. He still went with me and advocated for a spot for our child. And not because he wanted to. Because I needed to.

Thing 10

He keeps up better with my friends than I do. He facebooks. He occasionally emails my friends. He answers our phone and actually chats.

If not for him, I might be friendless and woefully unhip to the whole social media phenomenon.

Thing 11

We have been together for 14 of the 17 years of our adult life. Most of my dearest friends never even knew me without him.

Crazy, that.

Thing 12

Of course. The babies. The amazing, wonderful, awe-inspiring children that make us better people.

Happy Anniversary, love. Can’t wait to see what’s next!

Cats, Haircuts, Bad Husbands, and Vacations

Lots to blog about today: one of our “marriage cats” died this morning, Eily got her first haircut and I cry foul on the stylists, betrayal from the one I love, and Zane goes on his first vacation sans mama and papa tomorrow.

So, let’s get to it, shall we?

RIP Marriage Cat

Scott and I got two kittens 5 days after we were married. The smaller one, Lenny, was very sick with an eye infection when we picked him out, but I couldn’t resist his Russian Blue fur and the sweet look in his eyes. Fast forward 6 years, Zane had visited the ER 3 times in 3 months for severe asthma attacks and the allergist said the cats had to go. So with much wailing and gnashing of teeth, we gave our beloved “marriage cats” to SRH’s parents.

They said they would take good care of them. They said they were happy to help us out. They even said that our skittish Lenny (who was always that nervous kind of skinny cat that never let folks touch him) had become a fat lapcat. Whatever their story, here we are 6 years later, and our beloved Lenny is dead.

I’m sure it was something my mother-in-law did.

I jest. I jest.

Maybe.

So, we’re very sad here in CASA RH. Well, two of the four of us are sad. The little people have no recollection of cats in this house. But I do, and my heart is heavy today.

Eily’s Haircut

Crazy, curly-headed Eily got her hair cut for the first time yesterday. And it was fine - one of those kid-friendly places where they take a picture, make a certificate, and give a balloon for the first haircut.

I say it was fine, but the stylists (there were two because now I have two kids and we made simultaneous appointments) actually kind of honked me off during the hair cut. In what I’m sure was supposed to be helpful advice-giving, they said that I needed to start “doing” her hair up in ponytails and such. To get her used to it.

Oh, and I should leave on the conditioner after washing her hair. And I shouldn’t wash it more than 2 times per week so that it doesn’t get frizzy. And I should use some sort of moisturizing product to tame the frizzies as well. (And since we’re being ever so helpful, I should probably leave the conditioner on Zane’s hair, too.)

Exhibit A is below. Eily’s hair is about 3 inches long when you straighten out the curls. It is very rarely frizzy and never dry. She looked like she was sucking on a lemon the entire time they were putting their little rubber bands in it, and she kept trying to pull the pig tails out after they had them in.

She’s a baby for goodness sakes. Can we not - at 14 months - start with the “girls should look this way” bullshit?

Exhibit A - Eily in Pig Tails

That being said, those darn pigtails were so cute that Zane kept asking me to put her hair in the “tails” today. Oy vey.

Betrayal

In college, SRH and I were in an honor’s fraternity. (Perhaps I should have saved that information for my “Chronicles of the Uncool - Episode 2” post?) Anyhoo...we were in this fraternity. It’s where we met. We made lifelong friends, blah, blah, blah...

But I don’t really care about the fraternity anymore. I rarely think of it, truth be told.

But through the magic of Facebook, it’s popped its head back into our lives. Now, I’m not on Facebook, being a person who doesn’t care about people in general - and specifically those from my past. But SRH is on - and he totally sold me out today.

They wanted updated info, but since I have dropped off their email list, they only contacted SRH. Who promptly gave them my email and address! And not even my crappy, secondary gmail account, but my real-deal, work email.

First one of the marriage cats dies. Now my partner has sold me out. This relationship can’t last that much longer, I think.

(On the other hand, I don’t relish the idea of starting off my match.com ad with “must love kids”, so perhaps I’ll keep him around.)

Zane Vacation

As a last “hoorah” before school starts, Zane is leaving tomorrow with my mother for a three-day vacation. It will be his first time away from the two of us for that long of a time. I’ve been away that long. SRH has been away that long, but the kids have never been away from us that long.

He’s completely looking forward to it. I feel a little sick - and yes a little giddy, too - every time I think of it.

We’ll see how we all do...

Odds and Ends

I’m not even gonna apologize for the length of time between postings. Nope. Not going to give lengthy explanations about work, travel, or the incredible morass of navigating Two Kid Land. Not going to make false promises of increased posting.

Just going to fill you in on a few odds and ends.

The Odds

Eily has developed a love for these. And while that fact might cause you to judge her two inept parents, I will say in our defense that the doctor suggested that we feed her Doritos. (He quickly backpedaled when he remembered her dairy allergy – because fake Dorito cheese still has dairy.)

For explanation, Eily only weighed 14.5 pounds at her 9 month visit – dropping her below the growth charts. So the doctor suggested we get her onto table foods more quickly than typical and try to increase her fat intake as much as possible. So I’ve been feeding her avocadoes aplenty. And yes, I add dairy-free and soy-free margarine to all cereals and vegetables, but the high-calorie snack she can’t deny is the chips above. Sad, but true.

It’s working, though. By her visit last week she was up to 16.5 pounds, barely putting her back on the weight chart, but it was enough to make the doctor get off our back, so we’re cool.

And it’s all relative. Today I saw an 8 month old that could bench press Eily and then eat her for breakfast. (Which I wouldn’t recommend. She’s not fatty enough to taste good.)

Another Odd

One of my favorite people in the world sent me an email last night that said:

Your boyfriend is on American Idol – right now.

Now, I don’t watch American Idol, but this piqued my interest. So I made Scott figure out what channel Idol was on and we quickly flipped to it, only to tune into…KISS. Who are not “my boyfriends” in any sense of the word. So I called my delusional friend who then told me I’d just missed…LIONEL RICHIE!

Much gnashing of teeth ensued. You all know I love some Lionel Richie – see this post, and this one, and he even got a brief mention in this one.

But I did write her the following email in response:

Lionel Richie has never been my boyfriend. He's more like a well-loved uncle. Except I never had one of those.

So to clarify: KISS and any of its members are not my boyfriend. Nor is Lionel Richie. He’s more like a mythical relative that I’ve never experienced.

The Ends

Zane’s last day of preschool was today. So preschool graduation was yesterday. (Makes sense, right? One graduates before actually completing the coursework?)

Anyhoo, I know it’s hip to be cynical about preschool graduations, but friends, I TOTALLY dug Zane’s preschool graduation. I’m not sure what I loved best, really. Maybe it was the construction paper caps the little people were wearing. Or the fact that they all got to say what they’d miss about preschool – Zane will miss playing with plane, btw. Or the fact that I didn’t hear about preschool graduation until the morning it was happening, making it an almost a completely spontaneous celebration of my kid and his achievements.

It was so cool that I didn’t even get teary-eyed about my baby boy growing up - not during the graduation anyway. When his teachers told me what a pleasure it was watching him grow and change this year, sure I got a little misty. But overall, it was just a great, joy-filled, spectacular, unexpected event that totally made my week.

Ha ha! That cap is amazing - Zane at preschool graduation!

He’s a really amazing boy.

Split Ends

Yesterday I got about 6 inches cut off of my hair. In an attempt to be a more informed hair-styling consumer – instead of giving my regular, “do whatever you want” directive to my stylist – I actually browsed the internet for hair cut ideas.

About 20 minutes later, I was almost hyperventilating with anxiety – am I hair type 3B or 4A? Should I consider a texturizer instead of a relaxer? What about texlaxing? How do all these people know all this stuff about hair? Why don’t I? Shoot, did I miss a this-is-you-hair-and-it-proper-care memo at some point?

I shut off my computer, went to my hair salon and said, “This is freaking me out. I want a change. Do whatever you want.” Which - I think you’ll agree – is a considerable improvement over my past passivity.

Not the best pic, but self-portraits are hard, don't ya know? You get the idea.

I’m pretty happy with the results. Except that apparently, this style takes a flat iron to maintain…anyone know much about those? I’m scared to go traipsing about on the internets to find out more…

My Questions Now

One of my favorite quotes:

I beg you...to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer...

Rainer Maria Rilke, 1903

So, in the spirit of Rilke (ha ha!), here are the questions I’ve been asking myself recently – some profound some silly:

1. What should I boldly say “yes” – and courageously say “no” – to right now?

2. What do my children need from me at this moment?

3. How come Zane never has enough socks? We’re forever doing laundry…

4. Why is hemp milk so expensive? Why does oat milk suck when you heat it? When will I be able return to the joy ‘o soymilk?

5. How can I hold my family so that we move into this next chapter gracefully and with courage?

6. How do I parent two children gracefully?

7. What’s my preoccupation with being graceful? Life is messy.

8. How do I let others help me? What help do I need?

9. How can two children of the same parents be so different?

10. Has ZZ’s cancer returned? (Thankfully - the answer is “no” to this one.)

11. What will SRH’s next job be? What is his is Work?

12. Will it be in Columbus, Ohio?

13. Am I pulling my weight?

14. What can I have to eat?

15. How will I tell the story of this part of my life in 5 years? 10 years? 20 years?

16. Which is the right school for Zane?

17. Okay, we’ve found it…the right school. Will Zane get into this school?

18. Who do Scott and/or I have to sleep with to get Zane into this school?

19. What’s next for us? (Besides sleeping with school administrators…)

20. How come having a water fight in the kitchen at the end of the night makes everything okay?

Okay, so there are some of my questions. I’d ask for the answers, but if I’m to believe the quote above, I must live my way into the answers. So that’s what I’m doing...living into the answers, y’all.

What are some of your questions?

Cool New Stuff

Lots of cool new things happening here at Chez RH, and since I usually bellyache and share all my various and assorted worries here (see any posts labeled Keith Richards, asthma, food allergies, or other stuff that worries me), I thought I’d take a minute to tell you about some good stuff.

Zane Good Stuff
My kid read his first word on Saturday. Honest to goodness, read it. Didn’t memorize it as the next word in the story. Didn’t guess it from contextual clues. He read it. As you can imagine, I was seriously proud.

Proud enough that we carted the baby to the library yesterday to pick out some “readers” so that he can practice the glorious act of reading. Because while I wasn’t going to push him into reading, now that’s he’s expressed interest, I can’t stop fantasizing about all the nerdy-fun we’re going to have reading together everyday for the rest of his childhood. (That’s how it works right?!)

The word was “off” by the way, so because I can’t contain my pride, here it is…Hot off the press! My kid can read one word in the preceding sentence!

More Zane Good Stuff
Zane is losing his first tooth. This morning he yelled up the stairs that he had “hurt” his tooth, and all I could think was G!@% D$#%@ Cap’N Crunch. Not only are you a sugary devil, now you go physically assaulting my boy’s choppers.

In actuality, the Vile Cap’N merely further loosened a tooth already destined to leave his mouth in the near future. So this is totally cool because Zane feels like such a big boy, but also kind of breaks a mama’s heart. You know, since Zane is getting to be such a big boy.

Eily Good Stuff
It’s official. We have a girl who smiles. Yep, she did it on her 4 week anniversary of life - looked at me big as anything with a wide-mouthed grin and sparkling eyes. For a bit, I thought it might be gas, but she has repeated it often enough that I’m quite sure that it’s a real-deal smile.

My Good Stuff
Getting a new blog design, friends. Yep, I’m revamping the whole thing. I may even change the title. It smacks of favoritism to have the title of your blog reflect only one of your children, doesn’t it?

As I read the sidebar last month, it barely seemed to be talking about my life anymore. For starters, Zane will be 5 next week – yikes! – and his food allergies and asthma don’t take up nearly the space in our lives as they once did. We rarely dash off to the ER or doctor these days. I’m creating a fulfilling work/life, and I get through most days pretty well. (I am, however, still married to the cynical, sarcastic man who makes me laugh every day, and Zane is still wildly adorable so not everything is different, I suppose.)

So…it’s time for a change, but I can’t figure out a new name for the blog which embraces all this good new stuff – Zane’s improved health, new baby, new work, etc.

Any ideas? ZanEily Mothering? Ryan-Hart the Lion Heart? The Rare Blogger?

What do you think?

Edited to add: BTW, my first name is totally fair game in the whole blog re-naming. Bring on the days of the week madness!

What Have We Done?

Zane turned four last week - and yes, I will write the requisite blog entry full of love and devotion to my little boy, but just not today. (Really, I will. Please see last year's love letter as proof of my commitment to waxing eloquent about the wonder that is my little boy.)

Anyway, Zane got lots of cool stuff for his special day, and one of his favorite gifts is a kid's digital camera. He's gone completely nuts for the thing. He'll take 60 pictures in 10 seconds flat, ask us to upload them onto the computer, and then take 60 more - all before breakfast!

So what's a family with 800 pictures taken by a four year old to do? Well, we make him his own photo blog, of course.

A sample of what you'll see if you mosey over to Zane's blog:

My Birthday Party

This is my mama - she truly is this goofy. Here's proof that I'm not making it up - the pictures show the real story.

This is my papa - he's particularly tall, so the view will often be of his stubbly chin.

Here's me. As you may have guessed, I didn't take this particular photo. Papa took it, but I think it beautifully captures the birthday goodness which was going on. Check out my hat.

So yeah, we totally created a photo blog for Zane. We couldn't help ourselves - the pictures are hilarious, and we are so enamored of our child that we thought we'd claim a corner of the blogosphere for him. In case you missed it, here's the link to Little Man's Got a Camera.

Enjoy!

Sunday Evening Lunacy

I consider myself a relatively smart person. I mean I’m no Stephen Hawkings, but I was valedictorian of my high school class. And if that doesn’t convince you of my intellect (perhaps because you know I went to high school in southern Ohio with a student body of less than 400 people), than you should also know that I was a National Merit Scholar.

And I can almost hear you thinking, “Well maybe she’s book smart, but does she have any common sense?”

So I’ve heard this one a lot – the one where someone is called book smart as if it is derogatory with common sense becoming the gold standard of intelligence. Although to be truthful, I’ve never heard it before in reference to me. I assume that this is because to the casual blog reader observer, I appear to be neither book smart nor particularly full of common sense.

Whatever. In my life, my mother is the Queen of Common Sense. I guess growing up in a poor Irish farming family with an alcoholic father and bitter, bitter mother is the recipe for developing common sense sovereignty. I’m not quite sure if that’s the case, but I do know that the woman knows a no-nonsense answer to every quandary.

At least three times a week, SRH and I have the following discussion:

Me: I don’t know…what do you think?

SRH: (Shrugs) I don’t know…what do you think?

Me: Maybe I should call my mom?

SRH: Yeah.

Anyway, I may not have the common sense of my mother, but I’ve never considered myself a slouch in that department.

So explain to me how, this very evening - when I was washing about 250 plastic balls in bleach water to fill up Zane’s new ball pit, which incidentally, the OT is thrilled for him to have because, you know, it provides deep pressure which is helpful for both his tactile and proprioceptive systems. And anyway, I had to clean the balls in bleach water because my dear friend, M, got them off Craigslist for mere pennies, but they were filthy because their previous ball pit home was located out of doors - I had a huge breakdown of sound judgment.

Why, I ask you, would I …

…choose to do said bleach water washing in my new cute lime green top…

…while standing on the irreplaceable Scottish wool blanket that SRH and I bought in London on our 5^th anniversary trip…

…and upon realizing the idiocy of this behavior by noticing white spots on the aforementioned top and blanket, I would STILL run my fingers through my hair before washing my hands.

I’m sure that tomorrow morning, I’ll have unflattering orange highlights on both sides of my head. Because that’s what happens to Black hair when it’s bleached, right? It becomes an unwieldy, nappy burnt orange? It doesn’t become blonde does it?

Because if you’ve known me for more than 5 minutes, you are aware that I think that Black people with blonde hair are an abomination. Something nature never intended. (Even Beyonce, beautiful woman that she is, struggles as a true blonde.) And I feel fairly certain that the superstar doesn’t get her ‘do by running bleachy fingers through uncombed hair while trying to put together a toy for their child at 9pm at night after a long, exhausting weekend of play dates, cleaning house, and brunch making.

So, um, yeah, I think we’re clear on the verdict here: I may be a little book smart, but not so much with the common sense.

On an Ordinary Day

I may have mentioned this before, but I grew up … umm …. uhh … ahem …without a whole lot of resources. Okay, we were poor (or working poor) for a great deal of my life.

To summarize tidily and succinctly: When I was born, we were on welfare and lived at my grandmother’s house – my father’s mother, not my mother’s mother because she (my grandmother) wouldn’t speak to my mother because she (my mother) was in a relationship with a Black man. Then we moved to the projects, and my mom got a secretarial job. When I was five, we relocated to Iowa, where my mom got a job at an animal feed company making about $2.00/hour. Shortly, thereafter we moved into a trailer, and I grew up in a variety of trailer parks. Mom got several promotions throughout the 20+ years at the feed company, but she was always a single parent struggling to make sure we had what we needed.

And while that might sound grim – and it is if I told you many of the accompanying stories - the reality is that it’s not my life now and hasn’t been for quite some time. SRH and I are firmly in the middle class, most of our friends are middle class, and the life of eating ketchup sandwiches seems pretty far behind me most days.

But there are some days…days when I have a rip snortin’ good time talking about old times with some of my friends who have also been there. Truly. Because even though living in poverty is hard and degrading, it also produces some killer stories. And when you’re around people who get it, it’s can be really fun discussing family drama, criminality, and going without.

(Unlike being around people who have never been poor, who look at you horrified when you start to name your family’s euphemisms for going to prison. As a side note, this particular post may not be enjoyable to you if a) you’ve never been poor or b) your family dysfunction is of the Boy Scout variety or c) you are a good, decent person with even a little bit of sensitivity in your body.)

But indulge me because I recently had a great night of stories and laughter with a good friend whose family may be as crazy as my own. And while much of our discussion was focused on family drama, the economic factor was never very far below the surface.

These are my favorite quotes from our discussion:

“On his way to the police station to turn himself in, my brother got off the bus and robbed a bank. But of course, since he’d taken the bus there, he had to find another bus to get him away from the scene, so the police caught him at the bus stop.”

“Well, his mom has offered to pay for their therapy now that they’re adults, but they’re kind of over it.”

"She sewed him up in a sheet. Beat him up, and then un-sewed the sheet. He was so drunk that the next morning, he just thought he’d been in a fight.”

“This must be a Northeastern Ohio thing: He spends every weekend with his girlfriend, but stays home with his wife during the week. My uncle does that, too!”

“So that they wouldn’t think he’d been involved in a robbery, he told the police that he was a drug dealer.”

“Yeah, my father’s wife is younger than his oldest daughter. Yep, I guess that makes me a little bitter still.”

What quotes have you heard yourself – or someone else - saying that sum up your family’s nuttiness?

(Come on, we all have the stories – it can be from your extended family, your “do over” marriage, or your partner’s family. It can be about broken marriages, broken laws, or broken limbs. Whatever it is, sometimes we just have to laugh our way through the craziness).

Four Things About Me

My mom’s birthday was Sunday. We made her feel all loved and stuff, got her a lamp, but I thought I’d take it a step further and actually respond to one of those meme emails that she so loves to send me. Also, on the bottom of her meme, she labeled me as the one person who wouldn’t respond. And don’t we all love to prove our mothers wrong?

Also, my kid has been sick all week. I’m tired and frazzled. Fortunately, Zane seems to be getting through this illness without a trip to the ER or a dose of Orapred. Believe me, I am grateful. But I’m also fried, so a meme really seems to fit the bill.

So without further ado…

Four Things about Me

Things you may or may not have known about me in any particular order.

Four jobs I have had in my life:

1. Bagger at Big Bear grocery store. This chain is now defunct, but I swear it wasn’t because I insisted upon bagging heavy things on top of the bread. The worst part about the job was having to bag up frozen chicken that had partially thawed during the shopping trip. That is a smell like no other.
2. Gymnastic teacher to preschoolers
3. File clerk/Phone Answerer at an animal feed company
4. Retail Specialist at a department store in the men’s collections section

(SRH just pointed out to me that I didn’t put any of my “real” jobs in the previous list. I countered that there’s nothing more real than the smell of molasses at the feed mill early in the morning).

Four movies I would watch over and over:

1. The Lion King - I also saw it here.
   
2. What’s Love Got to Do With It
3. Coal Miner’s Daughter
4. Purple Rain

(Apparently, I like melodramatic musicals. Not the ones other people like, mind you, but musicals none the less).

Four places I have lived:

1. Across the street from a Dairy Queen
2. Down the street from a Dairy Queen
3. Two blocks away from a Dairy Queen
4. This summer, we contemplated moving to a different part of our neighborhood – one farther away from a Dairy Queen. I couldn’t do it.

Four TV shows I watch:

1. House Hunters – HGTV’s #1 rated show (I’m a lemming)
2. House Hunters International (because I am ever so sophisticated)
3. Higgly Town Heroes
4. Little Einstein

(These last two make me want to slit my wrists in a warm bath while drinking some vodka.)

Four places I have been on vacation:

1. Traverse City, Michigan
2. London, England
3. Denver, Colorado
4. Nashville, Tennessee

Four Websites I visit daily:

1. SRH’s blog
2. Go Fug Yourself
3. E Online
4. Google – Never you mind what I’m searching for. It’s private. Private, I say. Well, unless Google is sending my search records to the current administration. In which case, they are into terrorists with a thing for celebrity gossip.

Four of my favorite foods:

1. Steak
2. Cherries
3. Watermelon
4. Fried

(For further explanation, see this post.)

Four places I would rather be right now:

1. Asleep – it’s a state of mind, a place, a destination. I had no idea how much I loved it until I had a child who took it all away.
2. Hiking in the woods
3. Um, let’s make that mountainous woods
4. Hiking to a steak house in the mountainous woods

Four foods I hate:

1. Cheese
2. Foods with cheese on them – except for pizza
3. Sweet potatoes
4. Fish

So, that’s it. Now, you are 36 facts closer to the real me – unless I did the math wrong, which is highly likely. So now you know 37 things about me.

**Editor's Note: Clearly Blogger and I are fighting right now. Please disregard all font issues. Stupid Blogger. Don't make me leave you for some place that's not free.