fubar with postwar miracles

Go get a cocktail, and then please enjoy this annual reminder of how old we're getting:

The boy turned 15 yesterday. Next month he finishes up his freshman year of high school. In six months he can - theoretically - acquire a learner's permit and start driving lessons. He has a (mostly) man-voice, is at least four inches taller than me, and weighs about 125 pounds soaking wet with rocks in his pocket.

According to LJ's new theme (which...I don't know, you guys...I'm not sure I care for it...), I started my LJ account in December of 2002. He was three.

Drink up! :D

Hi, I'm still alive. Very, very tired, but still alive. The magazine project that was at Kickstarter a couple of months ago has funded, and so now there's much work to be done. Much work. So hooray for some extra walking-around money, but wow am I tired. Funny how your well-over-40 self cannot pull off the late nights as well as your 20-something self did. If you're interested in the magazine, please do go check it out!

Now that soccer season has ended at school, the boy has joined the track team and is starting up with a club soccer team (outside of school). There was a parent meeting for the track team last week, and the handout the coach gave us included this phrase: "Most of our athletes will need to consume 2500-4000 calories per day." O.o;; So...I just give the kid a bag of Doritos and a cheesecake for breakfast, then? In all seriousness, though, we have reached the stage where his lunch bag is pretty much just a grocery bag full of food. So glad he's not big on sodas.

New Clone Wars episodes on Netflix this week! Although I suspect that the characters I wanted to see better endings for aren't getting them. :/

Speaking of Netflix - I started watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I had never really sat down and watched the whole thing - just a few episodes here and there. So now I'm trying to do the whole thing. I'm a few episodes into S5, and I know there's about to be horrible senseless trauma, because I am a human person who participates in geek culture, and therefore has a decent outline of the plot going in. Pretty sure it's still going to be horrible and senseless, though, since Gilles and Joyce are kind of my ship for this show. I'm probably responding a lot more to the adult characters because I'm watching it from a parent point-of-view. All that said, though, I'd like to state that I deeply dislike Angel, and it's probably because my inner mother-of-teenager is going "What? Him? NO. NO, I FORBID IT. YOU CAN DO SO MUCH BETTER."

See? Tired.

tl/dr: Hi, I'm still alive.

I think I have mentioned here before that I went to a teeny tiny high school that was mostly populated with kids who were equal parts smart and socially inept. Of course, the older we got, the harder we tried to not be socially inept, but being smooth and cool in public is a hard skill to learn.

Our school was too small for athletics, so it wasn't like we had rivals or anything like that, but our campus was just a few blocks from the campus of a regular public high school called El Modena. When some of us became old enough to drive, we started venturing out in groups after school. Most of the time we ended up at the Swenson's Ice Cream place down the street. For a time, it seemed like every time we went to Swenson's, we'd encounter some kids from El Modena, and I'm pretty sure they could smell awkwardness on us and there were rude words exchanged often. Not to say we ever got into any physical fights, but there were words pretty regularly, and I distinctly remember feeling like they saw right through us - like they knew we were weird kids from that weird school, like it was obvious we were not anywhere near as cool and smooth in public as we were pretending to be, and they were damn well going to put us in our place.

The point to all this is that the Frosh/Soph soccer team the boy is on played El Modena this afternoon. Final score: Brea-Olinda: 5, El Modena: 1.

It was deeply satisfying to see my son's team kick El Modena's asses. Deeply.

We have reached the point in the parent/child relationship where the boy feels comfortable criticizing my driving.

I guess I should be glad he's not a girl, because then my clothes would be up for scrutiny as well.

The boy has taken to creating a little teenager nest on the couch (or, as long-time readers may remember it, The Couch). The nest generally consists of a couple of blankets, the larger of the couch pillows, his laptop (tuned incessantly to YouTube), laptop charger, phone and phone charger, teevee remotes, a bottle of water, game controllers, game headphones, computer headphones, perhaps his backpack with some textbooks and homework scattered about, dirty plates and/or empty food wrappers, dirty socks, a hoodie, a gaming magazine or two, and on rare occasion, a book. Bear in mind, this couch is huge. It can comfortably seat six adults and/or sleep two adults and a decent-sized dog. Or, one teenager and all of his crap.

Anyway! So this morning he comes downstairs and crawls into his nest, and as I look over I notice that there's money all over the nest - a few one dollar bills and a bunch of coins. So I ask, "Why is there money all over the couch? Did you have a bunch of strippers over last night?"

"Yeah," he says. "I was really making it rain with those pennies." *pause* "That's probably why they left." *longer pause* "Yeah, that's probably why they left..."

Smartass.

I really should be in bed because I need to be up in like five hours to get the kid to school early so he can get help with his programming homework. But I needed to offload some of this brain buzzing first.

( I know it's stress because my jaw hurts from being clenched )

Okay, I feel better now that I got some of that out. I'll post fannish things next time, because Agents of SHIELD gave me a new OTP this week that I need for someone else to love as much as I do.

So the boy and his X-Box buddies have started using "PR0N" as a clan tag. I raised an eyebrow at it when it came up, but have pretty much left it alone because I figured if I made a big deal about it, he'd just keep it on there longer, because teenager. Sunday when his friend was over and they were playing on X-Box Live, someone asked what it meant. Much Beavis and Butthead-style giggling ensued.

"Yeah, buddy," says I, all sarcastical-like. "What does 'PR0N' mean?

More teen boy laughing. "Guys, my mom wants to know what it means..."

"Tell her it's Chinese!"

"Yeah, yeah - mom, it's Chinese. You wouldn't understand."

"Chinese, huh..." says I. "That's funny, because according to the internet, it means 'porn'"

"Uhhhhhh..."

"Look, I don't know how dumb you think I am, but let me assure you, I'm not that dumb."

Tell her it's Chinese...for Christ's sake...doesn't this kid know who I am?

Things I hear my son say while he's gaming, part 73:

"I think my monkey fell off a cliff or something."

...

...

...I don't know, you guys.

The boy is doing a summer soccer league, put on by the coaches at the high school. It's kind of a warmup/tryout for the freshman team, and from what the coaches have said, as long as the kids show up and do their best, they'll make the team. For the last couple of weeks - and for the next couple - I've been dashing around like a madwoman to get the boy to his games. In fact, I should really be in bed right now because he has games for the next three days and I need to get my ass to work way early so I can leave earlier without there being office drama. But I wanted to say a couple of things about it first.

1. The vast majority of the teams they're playing against are JV teams from other local schools, so the kids they're playing are bigger, faster, and have been part of their teams for at least a year. It's remarkable what a difference that experience makes. There are several kids on the boy's team that he's played with (or against) on rec league teams, so a lot of them know each other, but they're not really a cohesive group yet. And as one would expect, they're getting their asses handed to them fairly regular-like. Last game, the boy got knocked flat on his backside when he was pummeled between two players from the opposing team going for the ball at the same time he was. He's still sore. I'm kind of worried he might have bruised his tailbone. High school soccer is freaking brutal, man.

2. At the beginning and the end of each game, the coach has them do this little chant - "1-2-3-BREA!" Like I said before, the boy has played with a few of these kids before, so I've seen them around since he was 6 or 7. It's damned jarring to hear that chant, because now they all have man voices.

So this evening, the boy was talking about his geometry teacher, and how whenever the answer to a problem they're doing in class is "69", the teacher will say "Maturity check!", and there will be much snickering and whatnot, because junior high. And I laughed and said that was funny, even though I was thinking, welp, I wouldn't pass that maturity check, and I know at least a couple dozen other "adults" who wouldn't, either.

It took me about five minutes before I came to a realization. "Hey, wait a minute," says I. "Since when do you know what 69 means?"

...which earned me one of the more epic teenage eye-rolls I've yet received.

...well, then.


(Side note: The geometry teacher's name is Mr. Johnson. Maturity check!)

(Side note the second: When the boy's father and I were baby Tragic Kingdom employees, there was a ride in Tomorrowland called Mission to Mars. The queue area for Mission to Mars featured audio-animatronic figures in a "Mission Control" scene, and the lead scientist at this Mission Control was an audio-animatronic in a lab coat and a suit named Mr. Johnson. Mr. Johnson would explain to you about how you were about to fly all the way to Mars and back, and it was therefore very important to the mission that you keep your seat belt fastened even though you weren't actually traveling anywhere. The boy's geometry teacher bears a remarkable resemblance to that audio-animatronic, which his father and I both noticed/commented upon/were slightly alarmed by. All of which makes the idea of him calling out "Maturity check!" in a classroom full of seventh- and eighth-graders all the more bizarre/hilarious.)

The boy is home. Judging from the pictures, a fine time appears to have been had by all. And now he is utterly passed out on the couch.

After a long day of traveling, it's nice to come home and sleep on your own couch.

- Have missed three Tuesdays in a row. I blame a combination of not much to talk about and a surplus of work to do. Also, lazy.

- This deal with Disney owning Star Wars is getting worse all the time. Not happy about the end of The Clone Wars, not happy about Star Wars 1313 never seeing the light of day. Thanks for the reminder, Disney, of why I quit you.

- Speaking of Star Wars, the final four in their March Madness tournament are Yoda vs. R2D2 and Vader vs. Boba Fett. I want to see R2 vs. Vader so badly.

- The boy heads out on a school trip to D.C. this weekend. I wanted to go, but no parents allowed - only school staff are chaperones. :/ Probably for the best - I think half the reason he's excited about going is that he gets the better part of a week away from me, dad, and stepmom. We're ruining his life, don'tcha know. Mostly by existing. Plus, I probably couldn't have afforded a second ticket on this trip. So anyway, he's going. And the beau is taking me out on a date one night while he's gone, like the grown-ups do. :D

That's all I got.

I have a nerd confession to make.

( There are whole comms dedicated to this sort of thing )

Well, after a long night of debate, bickering and strife, we in this household have come to one unanimous conclusion:

It is monumentally unfair to have a big national election on the same night Halo 4 comes out. I mean, really. Who thought that was a good idea?

"I used to be an adventurer like you, but then I took an arrow to the knee."

My child has been eaten by Skyrim. If anyone finds him, please remind him that he goes back to school on Monday and probably ought to shower before then.

Conversations with a boy about today's release of Battlefield 3...

Two weeks ago:
Boy: Wouldn't it be funny if I got strep throat or something on the day Battlefield comes out?

Me: ...the only way you're staying home from school that day is if you're puking up blood.

Boy: I know! I was just saying...it'd be funny, right?

Two days ago
Boy: There's the level in Paris, and I think there's one in New York, and then when Modern Warfare 3 comes out, it's got one in Paris, one in London, and one somewhere in Germany...

Me: Someday we should visit all the cities you've had virtual battles in.

Boy: ...that'd be a long trip, Mom.

This morning:
Boy: Battlefield is really a multi-player game, Mom. It's a great game, but it just doesn't have the cinematic single-player experience you get with Modern Warfare.

Me: O.o;; *thinks* "...cinematic single-player experience"?

So, the boy broke a finger playing football.

( I knew I shouldn't have let the kid play football in any way, shape or form... )

*sigh*