Please help me. I've become addicted to Facebook. And really, it's not even as good as MySpace because you can't listen to music or anything. But I can't. stop. checking. it. Also, I've found so many high school and college friends on there. People I haven't seen or spoken to in years! I actually got teary-eyed after I found a couple of old friends.

Anyway. Amanda and I went to see the new X-Files movie today. I liked it while I was watching it, but reflecting afterward, it wasn't that great. I mean, it was ... but it wasn't. Wow, enlightening review, isn't it? I think Gene Siskel's job is safe. Er ... he's the one who's dead, isn't he? The other guy, then.

I bought these bowls online from Urban Outfitters yesterday. They're for my future kitchen. (Can't stop daydreaming about own place. Now, if I could only find perfect full-time job in my field of expertise.)

I was also tempted by this dinnerware, but $14 per plate? As Chris Rock playing a homeless man in an In Loving Color sketch once shrieked, "Good LAWD, that's a lotta money!" (Dudes, I totally dropped an old-school comedy reference on your collective asses.)

Also, currently obsessed with all things Adele. I especially love the song "Daydreamer."

"Wonder Boy, what is the secret of your power?"

Rachel from work and I went to see "Batman: The Dark Knight" at the drive-in Friday night. It was pretty excellent; we were both pleased with it. There were several cringe-inducing moments that Heath Ledger's Joker gave us. And stupid freaking Matt Lauer gave a crucial plotpoint Thursday morning on the "Today Show," so I unfortunately already knew one thing. Ugh. Stupid bastard. Other than that, two thumbs up for the movie.

My mom got a new puppy at the house. He's a mix of Boston terrier, a Shih Tzu, and a chihuahua. His name is Brauny, named after my mom's favorite Milwaukee Brewer.

He's adorable and tiny and bite-y.

Mom made dessert the other day. As she was pulling the pan out of the oven, Jersey came up to her.

Jersey: What kinda cake is this, Gram?

Gram: These are lemon bars. Do you like lemon bars?

Jersey: Oh, yes. I love lemon bars! Except I haven't had them since military camp.

Jersey and her mom walking outside:

Jersey: Mom, what are those cracks in the sidewalk called?

Amanda: I don't know, Jerz. They're just cracks.

Jersey: No, according to my science book, the cracks in the sidewalk are made of needles. And needles are very dangerous.

I recently purchased a print from the LauraGeorge Etsy site, titled "Four Bookish."

I just picked it up from the frame shop yesterday and hung it over my bookcase.

Here's the other wall with my Gorjuss print, along with Jersey's handprints, a framed robot card from Kristen, and my fave photo from when Jersey was in the cutest baby contest:

I finished writing my second story for my writers group. I haven't had their reactions yet, but we meet Monday evening. Amanda, Mom and John loved it, though. After Mom quit crying, she croaked "Mediocre." ha!

My fave professor from my alma mater will be conducting a reading from his newest book at my library Wednesday night. I volunteered to make cookies. (Not just any cookies. They're chocolate mint cookies, and they're delish!)

My only other exciting news is that I joined Facebook. I know, quite the fascinating life I lead, isn't it?

Jerz on parade! (obviously to be sung to the tune of "Bulls on Parade.")

Amanda, Jersey, my aunt Linda, and I went to the Fourth of July parade Friday, as did most Americans, I guess. Anyway, it was a pretty fun day. Jersey was all smiles.



Even when she saw the old man and his skunk, which has been a part of the July 4th parade as long as I can remember. I can still remember my sister getting excited to pet the skunk when she was little.



British clown police? Albino Native American? Foppish mime? All of the above?





Jerz in action. Gotta grab that candy before the other kids do!

No matter what we did, we could not keep that kid's pants up. She mooned just about every float that went by. The ones throwing candy, anyway.

We also saw some bizarre things this year:

After the parade, it was off to my mom's house for an old-fashioned cook-out, after which the girls went swimming.

Today is also my mom's birthday. I'm sure she'd appreciate me telling this little anecdote:

Jersey brought Gram (my mom) a "note" that she'd scribbled for her.

Gram: Oh, thank you, Jersey! *reading note* "Dear Gram, happy birthday. I love you very much. Love, Jersey."

Jersey: *stares at Gram with strange expression* But, Gram. That's not what it says. It says "Shark-infested waters."

Gram: *starts laughing*

Jersey: I think you need glasses.

"That reminds me of an episode of 'Reba.'"

Krista came for a visit this past weekend, and now I'm blue cuz my life is boring again.

On Saturday we played all three of my SingStar games, and Krista beat me at almost every song. Plus, my voice turned manly after all the strain. Hmph.

Later that night we met up with my friend Rachel and we went to the drive-in theater to see Get Smart. Rachel made fun of me for buying Backstreet Boys tickets. I made fun of her for liking Reba McIntyre and worse, the TV show Reba. Then she started relating every one of our jokes or stories by quipping, "You know, that reminds me of an episode of Reba." Funny, then annoying. And Krista kept it up for the rest of the weekend. Grrr.

Get Smart was okay. It had some decent laughs, but the movie was a little slow paced. Some quotable lines, though.

We went to a Methodist church near my house Sunday morning. As we were walking up to the building, the church bell suddenly rang, and I jumped, yelling, "Good Lord!" Oops!

The service was super boring because the pastor wasn't there to give the sermon. Instead, some lay person rambled on about some convention she'd gone to. And she paused after every other word or would repeat a phrase that she felt must have been really inspirational. For example, "This man I'd never met before preached about the passion of hospitality." *long pause* "The passion. Of hospitality." Also, she talked about the victims of flooding who'd seen their houses "go down the Kickapoo." I told Krista that at first I thought "Kickapoo" was just a church-friendly way of saying "the shitter." Then I was like, "Oh, yeah. The river. Dur."

We also had to hold hands with a neighbor during a prayer, but Krista ignored the person who tapped her shoulder, and I was forced into holding hands with an old man who steadily increased the pressure of his grip until I had to massage my hand to get the feeling back.

Then as we left, two older men I knew had to come up to me like a couple of kids vying for my attention. "Hey, April! Are you coming back again? I think you should come back again." "Hey, April! Remember Shannon? Guess what? She got married yesterday!" Goodie. Rub that in my face, why don't ya?

So after that we made our way down to Eau Claire for some lunch and shopping. I heart shopping. It's my favorite. Our first stop was at Red Lobster for cheesy garlic biscuits. Then on to Pier One Imports, where they had tons of clearanced items. I bought a red Japanese figurine for my future Japanese-inspired living room. Oh, living room of the future, how fancy you are. I also adored this lamp, but I have no place to currently keep it. :(
I tried to talk Krista into buying a hideous ceramic sandal-shaped tealight holder to give as a birthday present to Kristen, but she didn't go for it.

Next up was Borders, where I bought the newest CD by South. Pretty good. Especially liking the song "Wasted."

Target was our last stop and where I made the biggest haul: Becoming Jane, Flight of the Conchords, and Rihanna (which I'm LOVING), plus some fruit and scones (lemon poppyseed, of course) and birthday presents for a lawyerly friend. That night, Guitar Hero 3 was the name of the game. I think Krista's now hooked because she's determined to buy her own GH3. We'll have a chance to battle in August when she comes back up to GO TO THE BACKSTREET BOYS CONCERT WITH ME! That's right! I'm not alone! We're gonna rock it single 29-year-old style. She even brought a boy band cd up for me to include in the mix, but I can't tell you which boy band it is. It's an MMMSecret.

Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back!

In case you haven't been paying attention to my Twitter sidebar, here's what you missed: my mom and sister and I are going to see the Backstreet Boys in concert at the Minnesota State Fair in August! And you know what? I could care less if you think that's lame. We're going to have an awesome time, while you'll sit home alone eating Hot Pockets.

So in preparation for the concert, I'm putting together a boy band mix CD, comprised of songs from NKOTB, BSB (obviously), N*Sync, 98*, and Five. Any other suggestions? I'd also offer to send you a copy, dear reader, but I doubt I'll get any requests for one anyway. Hmph.

Other funny and/or annoying things:

My co-worker at the newspaper was just walking into my work area (the break room) when a customer came into the front part of the office.
Co-Worker: Hey, Butch!
Me: I really hope you were talking to the guy who just walked in.

12-year-old at library, getting turned down from a high-five by Jersey.
Boy: I remember when she was little and she used to be my friend. But then--
Me: She matured and you stayed at the same level?
Boy: No!
Other Boy: Yeah, pretty much!

On the phone with Pennsylvania friend:
PF: I'm tellin' ya, you gotta come visit me one of these days. You have to check out the people.
Me: Why?
PF: Well, what do you imagine Connecticut or Boston people to be like? Kinda sophisticated?
Me: I guess so.
PF: Well, the people here are like a cross between Connecticut sophisticated and rednecks. It's so bizarre.
Me: Weird.
PF: I know. I'm really disappointed because one of my boobs is bigger than the other.
Me: Wha? How did we get to that subject?
PF: Cuz I'm checking out my boobs. And one is definitely bigger than the other. I think the kids must've sucked on the other one too hard when they were breastfeeding.
Me: Okay, gross. I'm done with this topic.

Jersey and Aaliyah coloring with BlendiPen markers:
Aaliyah: Cotter! Cotter!
Me: Yes, you can color, too.
Aaliyah: Cotter! Cotter! Cotter!
Me: I know! You're coloring. Quit saying "cotter!"
Aaliyah: *leans in closer* Cotter!
Me: Argh.
Aaliyah: Cotter! Cotter!
Me: Welcome back!
Aaliyah: Cotter!
Me: Jersey, what are you coloring?
Jersey: A color fusion rollercoaster.
Me: Wha??
Aaliyah: COTTER!

So, this guy at the CA library has been in every day that I work there, and he seems to have a bit of a crush on me. And he's ... slow. If you know what I mean. I have to help him on the computer every two seconds, where he tries to win me prizes from the Burger King web site's contest. And he keeps asking if I'm single. And he always likes my rings and wants to buy some for himself. And yesterday he pulled up the sleeve of his T-shirt, revealing on his pale upper arm a fake tattoo of a 1950s pin-up girl, half worn off. "Her name is April!" he says. "'Hi, April,'" he makes his tattoo say. I have no response.

Such is my life.

"There is no charge for awesomeness ... or attractiveness."

Last night I took Jersey and Amanda to our town's new drive-in movie theater to see Kung Fu Panda, starring the voice talents of Jack Black, Dustin Hoffman, Seth Rogen and David Cross. Oh, and stupid Jerkface Jolie. (I don't care how many kids you adopt, Jolie, you still look greasy and stinky.)

There's a play area in the front of the field for kids/families to waste time until it gets dark enough to show the movie, so we let Jersey run amok with all the other hooligans while Amanda and I stood off to the side watching. I whispered to my sister that I hoped it didn't look like we were lesbians watching "our" daughter, then took a step further away from her.

After a while we pulled Jerz away from all the wild kids, made her go to the bathroom, then stood in line at the concession stand ... behind The Devil. *groan* She still comes into the library all the time, so I have to be nice, but ugh. It felt like for.ev.er before we got to place our orders. The young man working the register? Hawt! (He looked like this guy!) I ordered us popcorn, drinks, and Pop Rocks (for Jersey, of course).

Young Man: And which kind of Pop Rocks would you like? We have red, blue, and tropical punch.
Me: *slightly drooling at hawtness* Um, I think we'll go with the red.
Young Man: Oh, excellent choice! *grins wickedly and ever so deliciously*
Me: *incoherent babbling*

The movie was pretty funny. I think it would have been even better if a certain three-year-old hadn't kept waving her red glo-stick in my face, "falling" backwards off the middle armrest into the backseat, whining about not being able to stay to watch the second feature (which was Crappyiana Jones and the Kingdom of Crap or something), and making me acknowledge every time she understood a plot point ... but what are ya gonna do? For her first movie experience, it wasn't too bad. Amanda really liked the movie. Like four times, she says, "April, we need to buy this movie!" And by "we," she meant me.

Stuff, yo.

Our library received an extra copy of the movie Across the Universe, and I covet it. I think I need to make a trip to the store.

I bought myself a rocker/recliner for my room. It will be my reading chair. For when I read. Which is always. So I guess it's my always chair.

Eyes slowly getting ever drier as the day wears on due to late night of playing with kittens, playing Super Mario Bros. on original Nintendo, and reading, combined with early morning garage sale set-up and working at library.

Kittens are scratchy. Now, so are my hands.

Ms. That's-Just-Good-Writing got in trouble at work! Big time! hahahaahaha

You KNOW it!

So, Best Week Ever was on last night, so I prepared myself for the usual laughs that the show induces. Imagine my delight when American Idol David Cook appeared. He was hilarious! I couldn't stop laughing, ya'll. Please watch. (I'd had a crush since his audition, but his side kick turned it into full-blown love.)



And then later I had a dream that he made me a Bloody Mary. Weird, but I'll take weird David Cook dreams over no David Cook dreams at all.

Mothers, don't let your babies grow up to be jerkfaces.

I believe I've mentioned that I hate teenagers? The sullen little you-know-whats. They're so annoying. Like the girl who has the cell phone stuck to her ear the entire time she's in the library. "Are you mad at me? Why-a? Whyyy-a? Just tell me!" The boys who smell like they came straight from gym class and stink up the joint with their sweaty pitts. And who harrass the one quiet girl in the group. "Hey. Hey, you. What's the matter? Do you hate me? What's the matter with you? What's wrong? Why won't you talk to me? Hey. Do you hate me?"

Quit hanging out at the library! Go home and annoy your parents.

Today my boss told me that a fourth-grade class was going to visit the library, and all I had to do was set up a chair for the teacher to read a couple of books. And I thought "Fourth-graders? Haven't they been to a library before? Books at that reading level are kind of long to be read in one sitting. Not that we have seating areas. Just this dark corner next to the bathroom." Yeah. It wasn't fourth-graders. It was 3- and 4-year-olds. "Hi, Miss Liberryian!" they chanted in unison, all arranged in rows on our dingy carpeting. The teacher said, "Now everyone listen quietly as the librarian tells us all about the library!" Um. What? So I made a lengthy speech about stuff. I don't really remember what. Finally someone else took over. "See, kids, here's where all the little kid books are kept! And there's games! And movies!" Ohhh. So I wasn't supposed to explain the details of the summer reading program and how I catalog? I thought they were gonna be fourth-graders, people! And even then, I didn't think I had to be a part of it!

But they were all so very sweet. "Hey, Miss April? Wanna know what? I have one of those." He points at our courier bin that's filled with books to be picked up tomorrow. And another boy, "Miss April? I don't know if I've been here before." One girl refused to sit on her fanny; instead, she sat on her knees. The teacher did not like this at all and finally pulled the girl aside. I felt bad. Maybe she just doesn't like that seating position, Teach! "Goodbye, Miss April!" they again chanted in unison as they left the building, each waving and then adding an extra "goodbye" as they filed past me. And not one of them had a cell phone or an emo haircut--the precious darlings.

Funny cuz it's true

Check out someecards.com. Huh-larious. Here are some of my favorites. (These are incredibly tame compared to the majority of the cards on the site. Just a little friendly warning.)

Oh, look. It's me.

L-O-V-E spells LOVE!

Dragonfly. Locket. Gold. What's not to love? $25.

Genius, I tell you!

This chick should money, honey. What a unique and cute idea! Car litter bag, $19. Comes with a roll of biodegradable baggies.

Hmph

Dear Overpaid Idiot Doctors,

How about you give a correct diagnosis? Or are you boycotting decent medical practices? When you examine a 3-year-old's ears, don't freaking ignore the hard mass with a red outer ring that signifies an ear infection. After three and a half hours that consist of two five-minute nebulizer treatments and one 10-minute X-ray and ignoring the patient the rest of the time, don't tell the mother that her daughter has neither asthma nor pneumonia, then have a nurse come in to explain the medications for pneumonia ... to only have another doctor two days later confirm that the daughter indeed has asthma!

And, new doctor, thanks for the diagnosis, but don't send the mother to the pharmicist for more prescriptions without explaining how to mix them, in what quantity, and how to use the new nebulizer that the three-year-old must now have at home, thereby pissing off the pharmicist.

And to the rest of you medical people, don't just freaking start doing tests and walk in and out of the room without explaining who you are and, most important, what the importance of the tests are! Would it hurt you to take 30 seconds to explain what the crap you're doing? You're this close to making me think Tom Cruise is sane.

Love, April

Funny even in my dreams

I dreamed last night that I was in class and that David Cook from American Idol was in the class for one day. I kept cracking him up, and he kept giving me The Look.



Delish. After he left, he sent a note thanking all of us for being so cool. He said he'd made some friends (for some reason this meant the females) and some mates (this was meant in the British way and meant for the guys). After the letter was read out loud, I said, "Oh, man. I wanted to be his mate!" *wink* And everyone laughed, cuz I meant the dirty kind of mate.

Then I woke up with my own version of Billie Jean in my head:

David Cook is not my lover;
he's just a guy that I'd like to scromp.
But Archuletta's not my type.

Poor little pumpkin

Jersey's been sick again. It seems to happen regularly. She starts coughing and weezing. It got kinda bad last night, so this morning Amanda and I took her to Urgent Care. She had to have two nebulizer treatments.



It didn't hurt at all. She just had to keep the mask on and breathe normally. The treatment is meant to open her lungs more. Jersey was very good and kept ever so still during each five-minute treatment.



That was not the case in between treatments or when we awaited the results of the chest X-rays. Thank goodness I had the foresight to bring my trusty Nintendo DS so the Werz could play Super Mario Bros. because we were there FOR.EV.ER.



In fact, after waiting another 30 minutes at the pharmacy to fill her three prescriptions (the doctor said it wasn't pneumonia, a nurse said it was ... so who knows?), a dinner at China Buffet and ice cream that she didn't even eat, Jerz conked out on the drive home. (She was awake long enough to see the double rainbows, though!)

Mmm ... Darcy.

Love those sideburns, Fitzy. Meow!

Hodgepodge for $300, Alex.

Did anyone else notice that sign in the audience that read "Cougars for David Cook" on American Idol? I might not be old enough to be a cougar, but I approve that message. Oh, DC. So delish. Remember when you auditioned and I told my family that you were my pick for the American Idol? And that I totally wanted to make out with you? Those words are still true today.

I usually avoid commenting on things that happen at work, but I had an experience yesterday that really ticked me off. A certain someone gets really defensive when I proof their writing and several times now has come up to me with a red face and somewhat angrily insisted that their way was right or that I was being inconsistent with what I had previously corrected. (I wasn't. I was very clear on my instructions.) While I disagreed, I maintained a pleasant attitude and tried to gently state my intentions. Yesterday, I proofed a couple of the person's articles and noted many, many instances of using partial quotes--taking only a few words or phrase of an interviewee's quote and placing it in the middle of the reporter's sentence. Once, I can see. Twice? Maybe. But this was several times in two articles. I made changes. The person objected in a very defensive (and loud!) manner. I told this person that she/he needed to be careful about using partial quotes and that it was better not to use them (as practiced and preached by the Associated Press). The person interrupted with a claim to have already spoken to the publisher and exclaimed "That's just good writing!" Well, no, it isn't. Taking just a few words of someone's quote is discouraged because it can be taken out of context. If you only like a little bit, or if only a little bit is truly quotable/publishable, here's a thought: PARAPHRASE. All that red ink on the story that shows mistakes/bad grammar/punctuation? That's not good writing. It's sloppy. As evidenced by our boss standing over my shoulder reading your story, shaking his/her head and saying, "This isn't good." (Also, I'm not a journalist because I choose not to be, not because I don't know how to write.)

On the phone last night with Kristen:
Me: Did you see Laura invited me to come visit her place?
Kristen: WHO?
Me: Laura Llew.
Kristen: To her place?
Me: Yup.
Kristen: Her actual house?
Me: Yup. She said I could even sleep on her couch!
Kristen: Wha? *panic* Why are I not invited?!
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Kristen: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
*five minutes of laughter later*
Me: What kind of English was that?
Kristen: I think I sprained my throat from laughing.
(We're now seriously looking into costs of flight vs. driving.)

(later)
Kristen: My parents keep asking me how I know Towr.
Me: Oh, yeah?
Kristen: "How do you know her? Did you go to college with her?" No, Mom. "Did you work with her?" No, Mom. "Well, how do you know her?" *sighs deeply* So then I just said, "I know her through April."
Me: ha! My grandparents kept asking me how I knew her, too. So I just said "Well, she's staying at Kristen's house, so I'm just going to visit."
*silence*
Me: And we're almost 30.
Kristen: Oh, brother.

Jersey, outside with Gram. They see a heavy-set woman walk outside next door.
Jersey: Hey, Gram. Look at that big fat woman!
Gram: No, Jersey, we don't say that. What if someone said that about Mama or Gram?
Jersey: No. *shakes head seriously* I just say, "Hey, Gram, look at that big fat bug!"

Gram reading a story to Jersey before bedtime. The book is about hands and all the things they can do.
Gram: *reading* These hands are gentle. They can pick up a kitten.
Jersey: *holds up her own hands and waves them a bit* Well, these hands can slap.

Twilight, the movie

I have watched the teaser trailer for Twilight like 10 times now. Can't. Freaking. Wait!



Kristen Stewart is freaking perfect as Bella. I wasn't sold on Robert Pattinson (he played Cedric Diggory in the Harry Potter movies) as Edward, but this trailer has completely solidified him in my mind as the perfect 17-year-old vampire. Hurry up, December! I need to see this movie! (I know Laura Llew, at least, is with me on this!)

So last week I got to meet Towr. Though I was sick for most of the week and only got to spend Monday afternoon/evening and Tuesday morning getting to know her, it was enough to know she's awesome. Now that she's gone, life is boring again. This must be how Krista felt the days after meeting Johnny Depp.

Highlights:
* Kristen's Richard Nixon impression, followed by Donald Trump impressions.
* Battling Towr at Guitar Hero (me on easy, she on hard).
* Towr and me versus Kristen and Kate at Cranium (and me having Towr listen in as Kate hummed the Buddy Holly song cuz I only knew one line).
* The drive-by canning at McDonald's.
* Kate inviting me back to Kristen's house to play my SingStar! game. hahaha

I finally finished my short story that I've been working on forever. And by finished, I mean now I have a ton of revisions to do. I have my next writers group meeting tomorrow night, so I'll get their opinions (along with the awesome feedback from dear RC Cola) and start reworking. A local "famous" author came into the library yesterday while I was working on my next story, and a co-worker introduced me to her. My co-worker bragged about my writing (which was highly embarrassing because it's just a story, nothing fabulous), so then the author was telling me to submit it to Reader's Digest. No offense, but Reader's Digest? Seriously? I don't think so.

I saw Iron Man yesterday with my uncle Don. It was pretty darn good. My apologies to RC and K-Lo, as when I read their comments that Robert Downey Jr. was sexy, I scoffed and shook my head. The movie certainly changed my mind. Meow, sir!

Yes, I *was* in need of a new crush.

I love scary movies.

What's more, I love Scott Speedman.

Put 'em together, and you have a happy April.