amanda

mandy's visit was so full of fun and excitement that it's taken me two days to calm down enough to be able to write about it.

i could tell you all about how we ordered pizza when she first got here and how we stayed up until 3 a.m. just talking and how we went shopping saturday and how she discovered long island iced tea saturday nite and how matt lauer jr. waited on us sunday morning. but you're not interested in that, are you? i didn't think so.

it's much more interesting to tell you all the things she taught me while she was here:

• diet coke is the breakfast of champions.
• pizza reheated in the oven is infinitely better than pizza reheated in the microwave.
• you can get french onion soup without the onions.
• sometimes one twin gets more nutrients than the other.
• there's a reason men don't wear k-swiss shoes.
• good christian girls finish last.
• there really are no good christian girls.
• it's possible to buy something you like at pottery barn for 31 cents.
• what is that woman thinking wearing that?
• 20 + 20 = 40

i feel smarter and cultured. she should visit more often.

why i love jeopardy

i don't know what the deal was yesterday, but i spent the afternoon doing nothing but watching movies. ya just can't watch "the patriot" too many times.

by the time evening rolled around, i was ready for something different. i was ready for something to help solidify my turned-to-mush brain. "extreme makeover home edition" wasn't the answer. and, sadly, neither was "super millionaire."

here's the premise of the show: to be an actual contestant, you have to first answer a silly question like, "put these presidents in the order starting with the most recent: jefferson, clinton." ok, there are supposed to be four options, but it's such a silly thing to have to do, i stopped with two.

if you win this contest, you get to sit in the hot seat where you face your greatest challenge of the whole show: sitting in close proximity to a condescending and oily regis philbin, whose wit proves only how much ABC spent on "laugh" and "applause" signs.

next, you're faced with a series of questions that were in previous lives rejected from teen jeopardy. but they're worth $1,000 to $5,000. the questions grow progressively more challenging, which means the audience spends more and more time watching you sweat while you cluelessly stare at the giant monitor in front of you. there's no chance to actually think because regis is being paid by the word, and he can't seem to stop describing your husband's reactions as he sits patiently in the audience ... rolling his eyes.

so let's say you make it to the $100,000 question. this is where the lighting changes and regis grandiosely announces that you're in a new dimension or something. then there's dramatic music, the camera shoots up to the ceiling (again), and the audience feigns awe. regis explains the new rules, which consist of only two new life lines. i'm sure you're familiar with the originals, so i won't bore you with them. [note to the audience: the pig in "animal farm" isn't named "mussolini." moron.]

now you get "double dip," which means you can answer again if your first guess is wrong, and "three wise men," which, from what i can tell, consists of three non-descript pseudo celebrities/self-proclaimed smart people sitting at a table trying not to embarrass themselves in front of a nation.

i've seen this life line used twice, and both times none of the people had a clue as to what the answer was. they couldn't even produce an educated guess. helpful!

but the best part is that when you use one of the extra life lines, you have to confirm that's what you want to do.

"regis, i'd like to ask the three wise men."

and then regis says, "ok. you've decided to ask the three wise men. do you confirm your decision?"

"yes, i confirm it."

"ok, we're going with the three wise men. let's turn on the audio and video feed."

what a waste of time. you already wasted 5 minutes deciding that you didn't know the answer. now you wasted 5 more convincing regis that you wanted help from three other people who don't know the answer either. and your family at home has managed to fall asleep on the couch.

i love jeopardy because it's fast. because it's challenging. because it doesn't chronicle the history of each contestant. because it's not a vehicle for regis to inflate his already unbelievable ego. because instead of learning 8 things in 60 minutes, you can learn, what, 61-ish things in 30. granted, i say "who is henry the 8th?!" about 20 times per episode, but that's down from 35 last year.

so i'm learning. is that my final answer? wait ... maybe i should phone a friend.

blondie

... is old. that was pretty much the consensus last nite in innsbrook. and apparently she's a lot older than most of our mothers. wow!

but that's not important right now. what's important is that the radio people say today is the first day of cicada weeks 2004. cnn.com told me that every 17 years all of the cicadas who've been quite content to live in a hole in the ground all that time think it's fun to spring forth, mate, and cause humans to completely freak out. i'm really looking forward to it.

in order to prepare for what's been portrayed as "the end" for the mid-atlantic states, we've been advised to ensure our screens are intact, keep our doors closed as much as possible, limit our pets' time outside, and generally become neighborhoods of recluses during the last few weeks of spring, which features mild temperatures that are perfect for outside lounging. but, no. there will be too many bugs. and the temptation to eat them will be great ... for animals, at least. cicadas are reported to be slow, low-flying big bugs (a.k.a., flying poisonous dog toys).

i actually have a lot of faith that zoey won't eat a cicada. she went thru an extensive bug-eating phase, sure ... who doesn't? it all ended three labor days ago when we were in the holiday tourist trap that is north central pennsylvania and she snatched a yellow jacket out of the air. i didn't see the adventure first-hand, but i did hear the resulting rasping cough. when i turned around, she was frozen in place with her mouth wide open and tongue hanging out. scared to death. i can't imagine a bee sting on the back of the tongue is a pleasant feeling.

just as i got the number of a local vet, she started moving again. slowly. then she drank a gallon of water and within 15 minutes was back to her normal self. but without all the bug-eating. nowadays she'll sniff at a spider or an ant. or a wasp. or a lady bug. or a salamander (i know ... not a bug!) but she rarely ingests them.

so i'm not worried about the cicadas. my house is only 13-years-old. i trust that such modern-day construction is solid enough to keep everything from crumpling under the weight of the cicada plague. but we'll see. if i end up being wrong, maybe you have a comfortable couch?

ironic

it's a tragedy. and a surprise.

for real.

in the not so distant past, the CEO of McDonald's died of a sudden heart attack.

wait ... did i say surprise? that can't be the right word. what is the right word? i'll think of it.

in honor ... er, sorry ... in memoriam of the late, great jim cantalupo, the fast food behemoth (don't i sound like a journalist? only journalists use that word.) has introduced the adult happy meal under the pretense that an adult's love of salad, water, and a step-o-meter is equal to a child's love of cheeseburgers, fries, and harmful if swallowed plastic.

wow. who did the research on that one?

it looks like the meal probably comes in a fancy little box like happy meals come in ... i mean ... like happy meals used to come in ... before the accounting department successfully completed "project paper bag."

enticed? i can tell. you're wondering how much this miracle meal will cost you at the drive-thru. wonder no longer: $5.99. holy hell. you can go to ruby tuesday's and get the salad bar and a glass of water for like $1.99. but i digress. i'm sure the price will drop as soon as the accounting department is consulted again. those people are full of great ideas. fingers crossed, they'll go back to styrofoam.

how many step-o-meters do you need anyway?

lucky you

highland springs elementary. or is it high school? i'm not sure, but i pass it once every day. since my stalker hasn't been around in a few months (that i know of ... maybe he's just doing a better job) i've gotten brave enough to include the stretch of road that goes by the gas station where we first met in my afternoon commute. somehow i've convinced myself that this route is improving my gas mileage.

what is the deal with people on the same floor who talk to each other via speaker phone? cripe.
wow. that guy's fired up.

so, the sign at the entrance to the highland springs mystery school currently says, "SOL Testing." see? i've managed to weed out the northerners ... i know you ... you're snickering.

where i come from, SOL doesn't mean "standards of learning," and it doesn't require a test. SOL is more like the condition of showing up to the test without a pencil ... and no one will lend you one ... not even the teacher. i remember going to take the SAT (probably the first time because i wasn't nauseous), being corralled into a tiny, public erie school classroom, and seeing kids come in with pens. they didn't qualify just then as SOL because they could have cared less. the difference between them and the kids who were begging writing implements from other kids was fear.

as soon as the pen kids realized that they couldn't take the SAT with a purple pen and suffered that initial twinge of panic, they became SOL. you can't be totally SOL until you're conscious that you're SOL. other people might recognize you as SOL before you acknowledge it, but at that point, you're just "potentially SOL." it's doesn't take complete effect until you are fully aware of your situation.

why does virginia test for SOL? i guess down here it's harder to tell. there must be different SOL rules if you can't just know by looking at them which kids are potentially SOL and which kids aren't at any given moment. i blame their parents. if your kid is living in a constant, virtual SOL state, what kind of example are you setting? even if they're not, what kind of example is teaching them to appear to be SOL?

the only thing i can figure is that it's a blood test.