Saturday, April 9, 2011

Runnin' Down a Dream

I haven't written about running in a long, long time. I'm still keeping at it. In fact, I'm participating in my first half marathon on April 30th. I'm hoping it's the first of many (Particularly since I registered for the Disney Wine and Dine Half Marathon in October.)

I've gotten into a comfortable 3 runs a week rotation. During the weekend is my long run where I run the first mile and then I walk .2 miles and then I run .8 miles (wash, rinse, repeat) until I reach my goal for the day. It's kind of my own version of Jeff Galloway's walk/run system designed to keep me from injury.

Today's run was 11 miles. I have one more long run next weekend and then I taper until the race. On Tuesdays, I do a 60-minute fitness run with little to no walking, if possible, and on Thursday I do a 1.5-mile jog and then do 50-100 meter intervals for 1 mile, attend a yoga-lates class and then jog .75 miles home. 

In between, I do some in-the-gym biking and now that I've passed the two-week post surgery mark for my Lasek, I can get back in the pool. It all seems to be working to avoid reinjuring my back. I've also noticed since I moved from the indoor track to outside I've gotten slower (Thank you to Mother Nature and her natural resistance through 25-40 mph spring wind gusts), but I don't have any runner's knee symptoms, either. 

I love the feeling I get when I'm done with my workout for the day. But I do wish every long run wasn't met with me thinking of all the things I could be accomplishing at home. The first 4 miles is always full of the desire to go back home and start gardening or laundry or something stupid like that. It's funny, because post-run moments like now, all I want to do is shower, eat lunch and take my family to Brain Awareness Day at the Children's Museum. I could give a crap about my garden or turning mulch. Although I did come home to a sparkling front porch, since MacTroll took X-man outside to do his favorite thing -- play with our garden hose and soap. When it's dry, my rocking adirondack chairs will be outside, and I can hang out and read out there.

Oh, and a note for fitness guru Matt Fitzgerald. I finished your Racing Weight book during jury duty this week. In it you mention that if some random CEO can find time to run a company and train to be an endurance athlete anyone can. At that moment I wanted to shake you, Matt. Find me a single parent with  kids who need constant care or pick up and drop off at their fitness events, without the economic resources to hire cleaning people and yard people and other people to care for their homes (i.e. they make less than $40k a year), and/or are expected to put in 8+ hours, as needed, per day at their job (or maybe two jobs to make ends meet or have a 2-hour commute) without any financial extras or incentives and we'll talk about people who are role models for endurance athlete training. 

Either way, I'm meeting my long-term goals as a runner to 1) Survive the run 2) Not get injured (or injure anyone else) 3) To not vomit. Every run where I meet those goals, I pat myself on the back. It's a good run. How's that for motivation?

Friday, April 8, 2011

Out of the Mouth of My Babe

I've covered a brash of crazy adult topics this week. Today's entry is also a little adult, but it's one of those parenting moments that makes a mommy like me blush.

The weather is getting nicer, so X-man and I were driving home yesterday with the windows open. X-man hates waiting on red lights when he wants to get somewhere. So when he was two, we started doing the Corrina, Corrina  method of trying to blow at the lights until they change from red to green (4:42 moment of the clip).

He started huffing and puffing, but I waited until I could see the opposite light change to yellow and then I exhaled. The light changed immediately -- shocker. :-)

And then my son, very loudly, said, "Mom, you're the best blower in the whole world! You deserve a prize."

And the guy, sitting in a convertible next to us, just starts laughing profusely.

And here I am, blushing like mad, again!

Thursday, April 7, 2011

My New Favorite Place

I suppose in the world of blogs there are people who reveal too much and those that reveal too little. Maybe some writers go insane by bouncing in between. For those of you who get freaked out about personal information, this entry isn't for you. Feel free to skip today and come back tomorrow.

For everyone else, I want to tell you about my first trip to Planned Parenthood in 14 years. 

Today's visit was uplifting, and it made me think that the world of health care isn't turned upside down everywhere. 

I arrived for my appointment at the Champaign office of Planned Parenthood of Illinois at 1:35 p.m. I handed over my ID and insurance card for my 1:45 p.m. appointment. As a new patient, I had to fill out a plethora of paperwork. Some of it was the usual insurance items and emergency contact numbers. I also filled out some health history and read over the information on the Mirena IUD that the clinician was going to insert that day.

If you're new to my blog, I've been living with (suffering through) low iron since last August. Even on supplements, my blood work has gotten worse. Now I have low ferritin, low protein and low platelets. In January, I had an ultrasound. It took 60 days for my ob/gyn to have an open appointment time to tell me what was in the ultrasound (a benign tumor called a fibroid) and to give me advice on how best to proceed. Then it was going to take another 30 days to get another appointment to actually proceed. And two days before that appointment, my doctor had to cancel for another more emergent case. I asked the nurse for anyone else in the office that could do it, but she never called back. So, I went around big brother Carle and called up Planned Parenthood. They got me in 7 days later. And if you know me, efficiency wins every time. The IUD is supposed to lessen the blood flow of my periods, so that I (keep your fingers crossed) am able to retain iron stores. 

After I finished my paperwork and turned it into the medical assistant at the Planned Parenthood desk, I looked up and saw this poster. 

Underneath the Food, Sleep, Sex, it talks about how those are the three basic biological instincts of a human. Then it says, "If your sex life is good, Planned Parenthood is here to help you celebrate it. If your sex life could be better, Planned Parenthood is here to help you improve it."

I fell in love at that moment, and wanted the poster on a t-shirt so I could wear it everywhere. 

When they called my name about 30 minutes later as I was flipping through a Pregnancy magazine. (There were a lot of different types of parent-focused magazines and, of course, Oprah). My name was called by a smiling, welcoming employee. She weighed me (the sweet woman was nice to start the weighing at 100 lbs. I laughed and told her to bump it up a notch). Then she had me give her a urine sample. Afterwards she went over some medical information and then explained that a clinician would come in to do the insertion. 

While I waited another 10 minutes in my lovely paper drape. I checked out the small exam room. In it was a sign that listed the patient's rights and responsibilities. The second line was a welcoming statement that said: "Welcome to Planned Parenthood of Illinois. Regardless of race, religion, age, gender, sexual orientation or economic standing..." All inclusive and efficient. This keeps getting better. Don't have any money -- no problem. 


Now, I know that most people hear Planned Parenthood and immediately draw a line from it to abortion. Abortion is a topic that gets everyone hot and bothered. So bothered, that it appears our country may well be headed to a government shutdown because of it. People paint PP as a place that encourages abortion. But I took a photo of the most prominent poster in the room.


And I don't get how anyone can get angry about a place that teaches those ABC values. The other largest informational piece in the room (I forgot to take a photo of it) were pamphlets about adoption tucked away near the "desk area." PP is a full service sexual health organization. Do they provide abortions? Yes, they do, but that is not at all the primary use of that organization. While I was there, several women came in to obtain birth control. One guy was there for testing. We all had different services and contraceptives to choose from. And although I'm not using my IUD as a way to prevent pregnancy (MacTroll took care of that six months after X-man was born). It was nice to have a choice. I'm also sure no one in that building as making more than $30,000. They were there to take care of patients in need. There's something heroic about that. 

When the clinician came in, she smiled just as warmly as the woman who weighed me. She asked me to tell her what I knew about the Mirena, so I went over what I'd read on the paper they gave me, as well as the take care after insertion instructions and what my friends had told me about their experiences. She seemed pleased with the amount of information I'd retained and then she filled in any holes and answered my questions. The IUD is a plastic T-shape device. Mirena has a small amount of progesterone that is released in adequate amounts over the next 5 years. That's a long time. The hormone is what should help my monthly periods lessen or possibly even stop all together. And for anyone wondering, you can have the device removed and have no problem getting pregnant within 12 months of its removal (I don't have the desire to birth another child, but in case someone else did... I thought you should know.)

Then we went through the insertion. I'm not going to lie to you. It was somewhat uncomfortable, but anything that involves a clamp and a cervix can't be all that much of a party, right? If you thought a speculum was bad though, it pales to the clamp. Fifteen minutes later, it was in. She gave me some time to make sure I wasn't lightheaded and then left the room while I got dressed. That's when I noticed the calendar on the wall from some agricultural group that deals in sheep reproduction. It gives the "Next Heat date" and a "Due date" for the flock to make it easier on farmers. I thought that was quite funny for a Planned Parenthood.



When the clinician came back we went over the discharge instructions again, and then she walked me out where I paid a $20 co-pay for the device. Then I left. I got in my RAV-4 and I noticed a mother and a young woman standing on the sidewalk by the parking lot. I thought, "Isn't that nice? A family just hanging out in front of a family planning facility." Another patient was coming out of the clinic and getting on her bike to ride away. I was driving slowly behind her. As we passed the family, I noticed the two women suddenly had rosary in hand and were reading from a small bible. 

And I thought to myself: "Awwww, isn't that nice? They're blessing my new IUD." ;-)

I have to tell you, if Planned Parenthood offered full service GP needs and radiology... I'd go there for every medical need I had in an instant. Plus, their facility is about to get a much needed physical rehab. So when I go back in six weeks for my recheck, they should be working on the parking lot entry way, and the clinic is supposedly moving up to the second floor. 

Anyway, it was the most positive medical experience outside of weight management that I'd had in a long while. So, I thought I'd talk it up. :-) 

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Jury Duty -- Hang Me Now

This is my first time summoned to jury duty. I have to admit, I was half excited and half put out. In Champaign County they send you a survey that asks you what month you'd like to serve. I chose December. They sent me a summons for the fourth week in March. I called to tell them that wouldn't due because I was going in for eye surgery on March 24th. So they sent me another summons for this week.

You'll notice neither of them was in December.

Ahem.

Anyway, as a former journalism professor and reporter, I was kind of excited about the idea of serving... until I found out my husband was going to be gone for work two weeks in a row. And that meant I was going to have to recruit Quigs to be my emergency pick up person for X-man if I got put on a trial that runs late. No worries, you just run out in the hall or give your phone to the court authority to call or text her. Except phones aren't allowed in the courthouse at all. Sooo, I had to write down all the phone numbers I might need if I got put on a case that went past 5 p.m. (not that anyone wants to work that late at the courthouse).

It also meant that X-man was going to get up early, and he, like his father, does not like to be woken up. He likes to wake up on his own around 7:30. But that really wasn't going to work on Tuesday when I needed to get him up, get him dressed, take him to vote with me (I won a seat on the library board by the way--go uncontested election!) and then drop him at school before I went to court. I had to be there by 8:15 to ensure that I could get into the jury room by 8:30. So I got up at 5:45 a.m. to shower. X-man got up at 6:30 a.m. He's been a grump all week.

The first day we watched a video and sat around for 90 minutes. I read my book. We all got called back for the afternoon session at 12:30. Then we got divided into two groups and the extras got let go. Then I sat around until the officer came to take us to a court room. Jury room seats are very uncomfortable for hours at a time. But it's not nearly as uncomfortable as the wooden benches in the courtroom. My piriformis was very, very unhappy. I sat on a wooden bench for several hours watching random jurors get called up for a jury. They never called my number, so I got dismissed after they swore everyone in around 4 p.m. But I couldn't read when I was in there...

On Tuesday, I got called back again with half of the jury pool. This time I sat in the jury room from 8:30 until just about 11 a.m. I noticed the three people who I knew the day before weren't there. So I guessed they must have gotten put on a jury for that morning. I finished book 1. Then she came down and said we were dismissed, so I'm guessing the case got settled or dismissed. This morning it was exactly the same thing, but they had summoned all of us in and we sat around for two hours until they excused about 2/3 of us.

There is totally nothing sexy about this process. I wasn't expecting Ally McBeal or Boston Legal or anything. But seriously, this is insane. They built this new courthouse expansion a few years ago, they couldn't have put in a few comfy chairs for jurors to sit in to avoid sciatica outbreaks and drink coffee to stay awake while they waited for hours? Maybe offer up some power outlets and wifi for our laptops (which are allowed even though phones aren't). You could tell today that people were getting tired because they actually started talking. Well, correction, one juror started talking and then he traveled around the room getting to know everyone else. Extroverted individual clearly going through withdrawal. Me, I started reading book 2.

Tomorrow I'm supposed to have my doctor's appointment for my IUD. I know because I have crap luck that I'm going to end up calling Planned Parenthood during the lunch break to reschedule the appointment. But since we've been released 2/3 days and had the afternoon free, I'm going to wait it out and see how it goes.

Hopefully, I'll get a chance to feel more "Power to the People" on Thursday or Friday. Because the participating electorate on Tuesday was depressing. People clearly can't be bothered any more. They think they have more important things to do, and maybe they do if they're rescuing people from fire or saving babies. But I'm feeling pretty Joe Schmo hanging in the jury box, and although it's uncomfortable, it's okay by me.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Bleeding on the Eggshells

Throughout the kindergarten selection process, I was surprised by many of my encounters. I was pleased by the schools I toured. I was excited about one of the two magnet schools, and I found the actual registration process entirely pleasant.

I was also surprised by my talks with people about the process. It appears that a lot of parents were frustrated, but most of them appeared honestly frightened beyond rational thought. Most of these parents were white, middle-to-upper-middle-to-upper class, college-educated folks. These were parents that somehow seemed ashamed that they were researching local private school options for their children. One pair even whispered their choices to each other in conversation like the mother from St. Elmo's Fire discussing money and illness at the dining room table as "hush, hush" subjects. I addressed the situation with as much lightheartedness as possible. People shouldn't be ashamed that they're making (or even thinking about different school options for their kids.). I'm happy, as a probable future Unit 4 family, to have them pay $12,000 a year in tuition to send their child somewhere else and to give us their tax money for Unit 4, without costing us anything. There was a time, not so long ago, where I thought Next Generation was going to be the best option for my son. That was, until he got wait listed and I dove head first into my Unit 4 exploration. I am inspired at what goodness I found.

But here's the issue: Champaign is segregated by socio-economic status. And as of right now, when I talk to parents from not-poor families about their kindergarten choices, there is a lot of "my family/my child" talk. Very rarely does anyone ever bring up the idea of "community." They leave kids without helicopter-level parental advocates to fend for themselves. Worse, they don't even recognize that it's what the Controlled Choice process is built for... to look out for all children. And that's just not right. My child has no more value in this world than any other child on the planet -- except to me. 

For all of the complaining, whining and fear talk about Controlled Choice, no one in the community is coming forth with a better way to make sure that children of all economic levels are able to go to school together. Sending children to neighborhood schools won't solve any disparities. It, in fact, it will only increase them. Potential school board members in tomorrow's election, specifically Grey, Brown and Novak all talked about various aspects of this at the community forum. The geography of our schools is terrible. The schools aren't where the people have been moving for the last 40 years. At the same time, even though we're not allowed to use race as a marker any more, there are a large number of African American families below the poverty line in this town. They tend to live north of University. And they were woefully treated for a shamefully long time in this town. Hence why we had a decree in the first place. 

Poverty is the one giant characteristic that can bring a child to his knees. How can a child who doesn't have food or shelter possibly perform well in school, regardless of the color of his skin?

Bob Herbert of the New York Times wrote a column called, "Separate and Unequal" on March 21, 2011. In the column, he writes:

"Educators know that it is very difficult to get consistently good results in schools characterized by poverty. The best teachers tend to avoid such schools. Expectations regarding student achievement are frequently much lower, and there are lower levels of parental involvement... Long years of evidence show that poor kids of all ethnic backgrounds do better academically when they go to school with their more affluent -- that is, middle class -- peers. But when the poor kids are black or Hispanic, that means racial and ethnic integration in the schools. Despite all the babble about a postracial America, that has been off the table for a long time... Schools are no longer legally segregated, but because of residential patterns, housing discrimination, economic disparities and long-held custom, they are emphatically a reality."

And this, my friends, is Champaign in a nutshell.

During my tour of BT Washington, I was shaken by the fact that the school only has a 7 percent white population. The clear racial divide in our town was at first heartbreaking -- and then suddenly I felt anger in my chest. And it wasn't an annoyance, it was seething. Months ago I had been worried about sending my son to any school in an impoverished neighborhood because poverty to me = higher chance of crime. During my tour, I was suddenly flushed and shamed for many reasons. First, I know that this particular fear is illogical. I worked in the BT Washington neighborhood for a year at the Douglass Branch Library. I enjoyed my time there. I worked with smart and savvy kids. Some of whom had parents who were in their faces all the time about school work and behavior, and some kids who I'm guessing haven't been parented since they left diapers. Some of the kids had parents working two jobs to make ends meet. Some of them had parents who were constantly looking for work. Others had parents in school. And a few had parents at home all day. That's no different than people in any neighborhood. Second, when you live in a neighborhood of homes well over the $200,000 range, like I do, you can say that you think the world has gotten a lot better in terms of racial relations because you see diversity in your neighborhood, at the park, in the extremely expensive pre-school/daycare that you've sent your son to for four years. But then you walk into BT and look at the faces of the students and realize how disjointed your reality really is. 

During the process, I mentioned that BT Washington was third on our selection list. In response, I had someone utter words about how I probably don't want my kid to inherit any of "those kids'" bad behaviors. My gut clenched and I explained that as a parent, I'm pretty sure that my child could learn bad behaviors anywhere. And that it's my job to make sure that he understands right from wrong whether he's in public or private school. Since that conversation, I've had three other people repeat the exact same words to me, so I've repeated the same answer, biting my tongue from including, "racist-like" between "bad" and "behaviors" as I spoke.

Five days after Bob Herbert's column, the New York Times ran an editorial about cuts being made between a rich school district and a poor school district in New York. Much, much, much more money was being taken from the poorer district than the richer district

Why representatives continue to make these kinds of decisions probably has a lot to do with campaign contributions and heat from well-to-do parents who like to point at their schools as being "good" and "successful." I got a similar class-centered vibe the first time I met the principal of Bottenfield Elementary School. Admittedly it was one of those, "You have 2 minutes to tell me why I should put you on my list of five schools --Go!" moments at an informational meeting. But the first thing he told me was that a large number of students at Bottenfield qualify for the gifted program -- but don't go.

The gifted programs are in schools north of University. Perhaps Bottenfield does do an overwhelmingly awesome job of education so that parents, particularly those conveniently located, don't feel the need to move them from a successful educational experience. But at the same time, it put up a divider and labeled "good" schools and "bad" schools. It took a tour of Bottenfield where I observed the awesome work by the teachers before I felt more than comfortable there. MacTroll, admittedly felt they were too formal. But I still listed it as my number 2 based on the educational and social growth excellence I saw going on there. 

Similarly, when I got my 20-minute tour of Stratton. The principal there talked about competing with the magnet schools to deliver  her students an equally enriching educational experience, particularly in the gifted program. I don't want my school district to have competing elementary schools. I want each child to be valued the same and treated as an individual. It shouldn't matter where he goes to school. If there's this much unevenness in how principals see their individual schools, how can we ever come together as a district?

So it was with a lot of shock and awe that I toured BT Washington with its principal after going to the informational meeting about STEM where the administration and teachers all confirmed that they would be teaching the curriculum in a different time frame without a focus on testing and would be using inclusivity among all students (even those in the "self-contained" gifted classes) in their new school. Seriously, I got up at the microphone and asked them to confirm/repeat what I'd heard before I posed my question. 

But it's become obvious to me when people ask me about kindergarten that there's a divide between those choosing private and those choosing public. If I come out first and say, "We're in the lottery for Unit 4." There is first a holding of breath on the other parent's part, and then a complete stoppage of conversation about where his or her daughter might be going. Five minutes later, I have to come around and ask directly... before they'll commit to telling me where they're choosing to send their child. And then they'll somehow confess hidden public school fears that they might or might not admit whether or not they think they're irrational. Most often, they blame it on their spouse, which may or may not be true. (For example, when we toured Next Gen's primary school when X-man was 18 months, MacTroll was sold on it. I was more for keeping the thousands of dollars to ourselves for his college. As we got closer to kindergarten, I agreed that X-man needed more outdoor time than the public school could give him, and maybe that 45 minute rest after lunch wouldn't be such a bad idea, but that obviously didn't work out for us.)

I don't mean this blog to shame anyone (except for maybe myself). The truth is that if you found a private school that you can afford that will teach your child a second language, given them outdoor time every hour, instill in them the religious values you hold dear and found a school where you feel the administration, teachers and environment are best suited for your child, etc. -- go for it. Don't worry about what other people think, especially not me. And, if this is you, disregard the next paragraph completely.

My anger comes out of other place. A place where folks have told me they plan on moving to Mahomet when they have kids to avoid the mess that is Unit 4 or Urbana. Or they want to move to Philo to be in Unity. Or they're suddenly joining a particular church, even though they haven't gone to church -- ever (like since they lived with their parents), to make sure their child attends the private school that's attached to it. These decisions are based primarily on fear. The parents don't even want to bother to find out information because? -- I'll venture a guess.

The one common thread appears to be wealth and race: Sticking with your own apparently makes people feel very comfortable. But that's not how the world should be, and the big lesson I learned from this whole situation is that the best thing I can do for X-man is to show him how the world works and how to make it how he'd like it to be. I want to teach him to be kind and patient and to be successful and scholarly in a group of peers who don't all come from the same place or look the same. And as bad as I think Champaign is at feeding the fear monster and putting way too much pressure on parents and kids about getting into the "right" elementary school, an article in the Financial Times (reposted by Slate.com) makes us look like weenies in the school selection process. At the same time, the author touches on the same kind of encounters and thoughts I've had about fellow upper class parents.

Katie Roiphe writes:

"The reality is that their school, like all the other schools, is a tiny bit diverse. There are a few kids who come a very long way every morning, from another neighbourhood, on a scholarship, but the large bulk of the class very much resembles in background the other kids in the class... if you were truly committed to sending your children somewhere "diverse", would you not be selecting a different school, one that doesn't require almost all of its students to pay tuition that could support several villages in Africa? ... The interesting element of this obsession is that each of these unique and excellent schools seems to be conferring some ineffable quality, not just on its students but on the parents of these students. In the 10 minutes they spend dropping their children off in its hallowed hallways, they are seeing some flattering image of themselves reflected back: progressive, enlightened, intellectually engaged."

In other words, the choice of the school and the fancy-pantsness of it -- reflects mostly on the parent. A "good" parent picks the school that has historically perform well (test scores). A "bad" parent settles for -- anything else. And I refuse to play that reindeer game.

I put Carrie Busey down as my first choice because I loved my interaction with teachers, the principal, the assistant principal, the healthy food and fitness initiatives and the fact that not all the kids came from the same background. I worry that if we do get our first choice that once the school is built a stupidly convenient six blocks from my house -- that part of what I loved about the school when I chose it will fall away. I don't want it to lose that Carrie Busey feel and metamorphoses into something like a Barkstall. I don't want large and institutional with uniforms. I want it to be personal and individualized. Because as much as parents coo about the ease of uniforms -- in a school like Barkstall (and even at Stratton) you can still tell the haves from the have nots just as easy as if they had picked out their own clothes that morning. 

Honestly, I could forgive the ugliness of uniforms... but I couldn't forgive a kindergarten selection process that didn't open the doors of a new $18 million school to everyone in the district, and not just the people in my neighborhood. That just simply won't do. 

Controlled Choice is what we have. It's there for a reason, and it's not to screw your beloved child out of a good kindergarten program or to drive you insane. It's there to level the playing field so that all kids have fair access to all buildings regardless of how much money parents make or don't make. While many parents may see it as penalizing -- many may see it as a blessing.

In the end, I know my child will be fine, no matter what school he goes to. MacTroll and I stress education, respect and hard work. He'll learn those lessons even if his school isn't the highest ranked or most chosen school in the district. And if you don't believe me that parental involvement matters in awesome amounts -- ask Steven D. Levitt and read his book Freakonomics.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

X-man Cuteness in iPhone photos

We've been a lot of places lately where I've forgotten to bring the better camera. But here's X-man smiley happy and growing up so awesome.






Friday, April 1, 2011

Responsible and Fun -- that's me!

Here starts the responsibility:
Last night I went to the school board candidate forum at the Mellon Administrative building next to Southside Elementary School. The five candidates sat at the front of the room at some tables with microphones and questions were collected from the public and asked to the panelists. I was only able to stay from 7-8 p.m., since a friend of ours was watching X-man while I was there, and I really needed to get him and me to bed at a decent hour.

I have to admit something to you. Since college, if there are candidates I don't know anything about... (like when we used to vote for the U of I trustees way back when) I usually vote for the women and any names that sound like they're not white males. Yes, I know, that's insane. But I figure, when most other voters just choose the first three names on the ballot (if there's a list to choose from), I'm not all that much different, except I choose the people that aren't usually holding elected offices.

I shamed myself for not knowing about the candidates for other elections (or really caring) this year, so it's not like I judge others who do what I did or just don't care who they vote for because they send their children to private school. But this time, I made the effort. I know the names I'll choose on my ballot and why I'm voting for them. I'm almost comfortable enough to call up their election offices and have them put a signs in my front yard. But -- no one really drives down my street, so that's probably not the best use of their campaign funds. Plus, I've never been political enough to put a sign in my yard.

On the other hand since I'm on the ballot for anyone in the Tolono Library District (Savoy, Tolono and Sadorus) to vote for this year, I feel like I should be somehow more involved with the process.



Here starts the fun:
On Saturday morning, I'm fulfilling my first volunteer opportunity through the Savoy Rotary club. I'll be working the Ready, Set, Grow! Registration desk at Lincoln Square Mall in Urbana from 8:30 until 10:30. This means MacTroll will be taking X-man to Prairie Fruit Farm with the Super Family to see the baby goats and eat breakfast. Then at 1 p.m., we're headed to Seussical Jr. at the Virginia Theater  and that night, a new friend and I are headed out to Jupiter's at the Crossing for a little Brat Pack action.

But first I need to get my butt up and go to the grocery store. For some reason, that sounds very boring right now. Maybe I'll take my headphones and rock out at Meijer. :-)