Out of sorts/season

It's 86 degrees at my outside-of-LA foothills home. At 6:30 pm. Yesterday, it was 92 degrees at 7 pm. There are five children (only two of them mine) in bathing suits in our not-currently-heated hot tub, playing some game that involves the command "shake your butts" and much hysterical giggling. I love summer. However, it is March. The whole thing is just insane.

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If I weren't in such a top-of-the-line, Grade A, piss-poor mood right now (work stuff, stupidity, nothing to write home--or in a blog--about, but it's getting me down), I would have spent a good part of today trying to imitate Jane's inimitable post on the My Chemical romance concert to describe my trip yesterday--with N and our friend J and his daughter S--to the Wiggles concert at Universal's amphitheater. It would have been hysterical, I swear. I'd even have included a photo of my feet propped up on the dashboard of my car, with my concert-going grandma-looking near-orthopedic sandals on and my unshaved legs. Because I am HOT. One HOT mama.

Unfortunately for you, however, I AM in a top-of-the-line, Grade A, piss-poor mood, and hence you won't be getting anything like that. Instead, I'll just tell you that N rocked for an hour and a half, dancing his little feet off, happy as can be. It was his first concert. He had a ball.

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I'd hoped for more of a collection of quips and comments to choose from, but by far, the winner of the funny-comment-in-reponse-to-my-dad's-girlfriend's-comment is Fay. Yay, Fay! Want cookies? Send me a snail mail address!