High School, the final choice

It looks as if J is going to Auburn Senior High School. She's registered (and they didn't lose it, not once) and she's waivered and in the honors program.

It came down to where the majority of her friends were going AND (before you start pelting me with snarky comments about being the adult) checking out the honors program. You must understand she's in a school that is now a bit in the hood, and has great honors program. And she's thrived, and found a good set of friends that we'd hope she'd group up with three years ago when Thomas Academy closed, and scattered her friends (then) to the four winds.

So there it is. I do plan to at least talk to her biology and math teacher, and maybe lit, and check out how enthusiastic they are about their jobs. But for now, the decision's been made, and she's signing up for the sports teams as we speak.

Trapped in jury duty hell

But my family, especially J. doesn't really care.

All they want to know is if I'll be able to do pickup and dropoff until the last day of school, sometime around June 20th.

I've been sitting in this jury room in the King County Courthouse all day, and what was once a room full of 250 people is now down to the bitter 35, including me. It's for a medical malpractice, sexual abuse trial (I think) that I had the unfortunate fate, NOT to pay attention to awhile back. You think with two news junkies in the house, one working for KOMO, this would have caught our attention.

I can only hope that with my bro being a doc, once considering suing on med. malpractice myself, and having a cousin who is a teacher, and recognizing one of the attorneys, (from my old courthouse days) will be my ticket to freedom.

Otherwise I'm here for the next month.But again, neither J. nor Gary care. They were just relieved that I don't have to be here until 9 am, which means the mom taxi will remain intact.

What sweethearts.

She's really noticing boys now. Great.

As we're walking up to the cemetery to lay flowers on a friend's grave yesterday, J.'s skipping along (strange, I thought) and says she hopes her friend Marcus invites her soon to the Kent Swim Club soon. Not to beat the heat, but to get a gander at those six-pack abs that some of the boys up there sport. (sorry Marcus).

And she can't wait to go to high school, but there will be so many cute boys there (not going to tell her that the cutes ones are usually seniors, and they don't usually look at freshman, but she can find that out for herself.)

We I asked about the boys in her class now, she just dismissed them as geeks and dorks. On to bigger fish for her.

She did it!!

I think my fingers were crossed so hard last night, my knuckles hurt.

J. had to in Fairy Godmother garb, go out and start off the Cascade Middle School version of Cinderella by singing "Impossible" all alone in the spotlight, and then with a swish of her wand, start the play.

She didn't forget her lines, her voices was fine, had had trouble making an exit through the curtain once (but covered well) and even one of her friend's snarky brother thought she was good (maybe just noticed she was cute.)

There were a couple fun additions, gay men who wanted to be with prince charming, cells phone pics for gossiping, high fives (with knuckles) and a five-foot king and a 6' 4'' prince charming, who had a long lip lock with Cinderella at one point.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"Oh, that's just emma (cinderella) trying to piss off her uber religious family," J. said.

Okay.

And the second night, with a different Cinderella and again, a long lip lock? That was the boy trying to piss off the girl, she said.

Anyway, nice job all. Now, I just have to separate J. from the poofy dress that she somehow wants to keep (promised it to the school). It's going to the school, feathers and all.

Middle School Musical

Doesn't quite have the catchy tune as High School Musical, but it will have to do.

After the $100 dress (we owe the mall lady of a picture it), the $8 socks, $40 in new shoes, a $1.50 cent homemade wand and a $15 tiara from Claire's, I think we're set. I've been listening to the words "impossible" for 2 months now.

J. and crew from Cascade Middle School have been doing dress rehearsals all week. Tonight, she gets to be a milkmaid, 2 lines. Tomorrow, she gets to strut in all her poofy, curled, glittery glory as a fairy god mother.

I just hope she remembers her lines.

Another reason why I'm glad Hillary didn't quit

Put quite nicely in this Washington Post opinion page piece. J. and I were also reading down the Seattle Times article this am, and to this one, we say amen. A similar article also appeared in the New York Times.

Or better yet, as the Washington Post wondered Wednesday, how about Justice Hillary?

I'm not asking you to pole dance

But you would have thought so from the look at J.'s face, when I suggested she try pasties to cover up her nipples for a strapless (well, practically) gown she's wearing this Friday for her big part as the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella.

"Mom!"

Okay, well fine, just go without. There's enough material in front so nothing will show.

"What if I bend over! And we don't go bra less in 8th grade."

Hmm, what would Gloria Steinem say?

So that explains while I've spent the better part of two hours going through the Tacoma Mall looking for a strapless bra, size 34 A. I've decided that the bra manufacturers don't exactly have J's demographic in mind when they make strapless bras. Neither do the pasty company's either. Most are in C or D.

As I'm about ready to walk out of the JC Penneys with a $12 pastie set (practicing my lines to my appalled daughter tonight), the saleswoman stops me and says she thinks she has the answer. Apparently the winner of "American Inventor" came up with a 12-in-one bra that comes in 34 A and does swing low enough so you can't see the strap in the back or the boobs in the front.

Fine, done. And as I fork out the $26.50 for this modern wonder, I'm again practicing lines.

It's either this, or au natureal.