So right now I am a bubbling cauldron of hormones. You can guess the biological reason, I'm sure. If you feel that this is TMI, sorry that you had to face the cold hard truth of female reality. Maybe you would like to hang out with my ex-boyfriend for a while and cover your ears when anything remotely related to women and nature comes up.
To update on the A/C situation, they are coming out on Wednesday. No time in particular, just the "afternoon." Between 12 and 4. So guess who will be taking time off of work to sit in a warm house waiting for someone to come and tell me how much it will cost for me to have a house at a livable temperature? This girl.
So my dog and I are back at the parents.
Yesterday I went to St. Cloud to meet my aunt, uncle and cousins for my grandpa's birthday lunch at Famous Dave's. I do love FD, but I do not get to eat there very much these days. Perhaps now that my mom has tried and likes their Rich and Sassy Bloody Mary's, we will be back soon. Fingers crossed.
Anyway, on this outing, the primary source of conversational entertainment was not my grandfather. It was my cousins. These are the cousins of Wii dancing fame.
The first conversation of note remains somewhat perplexing to me. I suppose that most of the nuances of it can only be explained by that special bond that two brothers in early adolescence can share. It started with some sort of discussion about playing in band and somehow devolved into what my 11 year-old cousin wants to be when he grows up.
Actually, the information did not come from the 11 year-old, it came from his eager-to-share 13 year-old brother. For reasons unknown to me, the revelation that my youngest cousin may want to be a rancher someday was very traumatizing. He was VERY upset. Things got even weirder when big brother decided to add that little brother ALSO wanted to be a Canadian.
A Canadian rancher, eh? Sounds alright to me. I tried to reassure him, but I lacked the full backstory to know why this was so embarrassing, so my words were likely of little help. Coincidentally, I have always secretly thought that if I couldn't marry someone as exotic as a British gent or a Scandinavian lad, I could probably deal with a Canadian.
Also, I often find myself perusing the Pioneer Woman blog in my free time just to look at her photos of cowboys in chaps.
All this to say, if my cousin could somehow introduce me to some attractive Canadian ranchers, I think I could deal with it. Unfortunately, he is currently only 11 and I am 31, so it will be a long time before he can work that hookup for me. Darn.
Moving on to the next most "interesting" thing that my 13 year-old cousin said. We were discussing new teachers for the upcoming school year. Apparently there are two teachers for 6th grade in their district, one man and one woman. My older cousin had the man, but my younger cousin is set to have the woman. No big deal, right?
What made the conversation become more interesting was my older cousin's amusing logic for why he preferred male teachers. Can you guess? I would never have expected to have a 13 year-old boy admit to this in front of his mother, aunt and female cousin: PMS. I believe he used a euphemism for it, but essentially he couldn't handle the hormones. A 13 year-old boy. Ha. Ha ha ha. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
All I can say is, the poor guy is in for a BIG surprise when he learns that potentially hormonal teachers are the least of his worries in this regard. I almost asked the self-avowed woman expert whether or not he picked up any hormonal imbalance in my presence, but I figured that I would spare him that particular trauma. This time.