mimi smartypants
Seriously, though: what's with the penguins?

predefined educational goals

I GET INTO DUMB ARGUMENTS WITH PEOPLE AND MACHINES

1. The other day I had a fight with a graphic-designer coworker about “tag clouds.”

Me: I just think it's stupid.
Graphics Guy: They look cool, though.
Me: Who cares how it LOOKS? Stupid. And useless. And simple-minded. Oooh look, the important words are really BIG.
GG: You are no fun at all.
Me: Well excuse me if I don’t think a CLOUD is a good way to organize information. What's next, a book index in the shape of a rainbow?
GG: Maybe.
Me: Hippie.

2. The same day found me talking to my computer and this is what I said: “Motherfucker, it is not that hard to load this page.”

Yeah. I've been a little testy lately.

NORA HAS TURNED SIX

And one of the things she received for her birthday was the classic game of Connect 4. Have you seen the Connect 4 box lately? Those kids are having a VERY good time playing Connect 4.

The boy's pupils are out to lunch and the girl is not even looking in the right direction. I have not yet experienced this level of transcendence while playing Connect 4, and even Nora, who should be closer to the edge of the abyss just by virtue of being a kid, says, “Sorry is a better game. Even Go Fish is a better game.” True that.

Six is great, the birthday party was appropriately active and screamy (at a gymnastics-type place with trampolines and climbing equipment), but I am very glad it is over. I think even Nora is glad it is over. And I would like the lunar calendar to cooperate from now on and not land Chinese New Year on her birthday weekend, because that is just way more celebration than I need.

DON'T ASK ANY QUESTIONS

Remember when I bitched about the price of tampons? I got a lot of emails telling me that I should start using one of those menstrual blood collecting cups, and while I appreciate the advice I frankly do not think I can go there. It is not because of any squeamishness about touching myself, because believe me, I touch myself all the time. I walk down the street and people lean out the windows of their cars and scream, “Mimi, get your hands out of your pants! I've told you a million goddamn times!” It is more of a microeconomics problem where I am unwilling to lay out the cash for something that may not be my cup of menstrual blood tea, and then I would go back to tampons anyway but older and angrier and poorer. There are certain “good enough” solutions, like tampons, that I am just unwilling to tinker with.

So anyway, LT had a downtown meeting and texted me to say holy crap, this is running overlong, and could I pick up Nora at kindergarten instead of him? Well, no one at my office exactly loved that idea except me, but luckily I have a goodly amount of seniority/flexibility, so I left to make the northward trek. As usual, I got there too early, because I have a fear of being That Parent who is late to pick up while the sad child stands sadly in the schoolyard. To kill time I ducked into this rather depressing discount store called Family Dollar, and the tampons there are very cheap! And they did not even seem to be third-world knockoff tampons with misspelled labels, like Tamepaxx or o.bb! I hope they are not illegal Mafia tampons or anything. Now I am plagued by images of Christopher and Paulie hijacking the tampon truck.

HYPNOTIZED BY ACCESSORIES

I think it was that same CTA journey that I saw the most amazingly hideous purse. It was acid green leather, larger than two file folders end-to-end, and dripping with nonfunctional shiny brass hardware and studs and dangly bits. I kept staring at it and trying to wrap my mind around its incredible ugliness. It was enchanting, in a way.

I COULD ALMOST READ THE EYEROLL

Third quarter report cards for kindergarten are out—mostly a collection of letters, W for “well-developed skill,” P for “partially developed,” and I forget what else, maybe C for crappy? Something like that. In the narrative portion of the card the teacher wrote, “Nora had an excellent academic quarter. She has a lot of knowledge to share.” Oh yes, teacher-lady, I feel you. Nora has a lot of knowledge to share, and share, and share.

—mimi smartypants tagged your cloud.