So I often add some powdered hot chocolate to my morning jetfuel (Because I’m still a little too I like my sugar with coffee and cream Beastie Boyish, thanks.) and when we have raw goat milk, I’ll add that to it, ala the Big Mac/Diet Coke kind of thinking. Fine. But yesterday, Jack found an old box of Spiderman mac n’ cheese in the pantry –

[Sidenote: Does anyone else think the funky noodle shapes taste different than the regular noodles? How is that?! Why wouldn’t it be the same ingredients as regular noodles, but just stamped into a different mold?!]

– and demanded to eat it for lunch. To assuage some of my guilt I only put in half the cheese packet, and added some ingredients from the fridge in hopes of creating some semblance of health. Ok, great.

So. This morning, after making my delicioso 7-step coffee, I randomly grabbed for the half packet of chocolate left over from yesterday – you know where this is going – and instead dumped the rest of the craptastic powdered cheese into my gloriously oversized mug. Luckily, I noticed I was stirring around BRIGHT ORANGE, and some synapse fired enough to recognize that Houston had a problem.

Alas, the day was not ruined, because making that complicated coffee means we always have a lot left over. And the second go-round was much more smooth. But that still should be a lesson for JON to NOT BUY SPIDERMAN MAC’NCHEESE AT THE STORE. BECAUSE IT DOESN’T EVEN TASTE GOOD ANYWAY.

Let’s see. How is everyone? Things are pretty good here. Oscar is pretty much 100% healed. He has a hella scar running up his belly with staples in it, and I’m considering calling him Zip(per) from now on. Or, Oscar the WonderMoron. Or Economy Stimulus Check. Whichever.

Jon is donating bone marrow next week b/c he is a match for someone, and that is so ridiculously cool. I’m not sure what all it entails, but truly, we should all be so lucky there are people out there who would do something so painful and altruistic. You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.

For those of you who know of my long-standing fascination with the West Memphis Three case, I was directed to this video yesterday that sums it up much more quickly than the two documentaries. Go. Watch. Get involved. I cried yesterday thinking not only of the injustice, but the arbitrariness of HBO getting involved in the first place. It scares me to think of all the other backwoods, backassward trials slipping through the cracks.

That Alex Barton thing I (and eleventybillion other people) wrote about has literally exploded, due to the outrage of the autism community. As per usual I’m slightly irritated that autism is the main reason it caught national attention, but it has opened a huge path for discussion of neurodiversity, which is stupidly overdue. Again (againagainagain), I’m not wholly sure I can be in either camp, but enlightenment is still progress, obviously.

I am digging on this song, big time.

I finished the book Middlesex last week. I think it’s a great choice for everyone; it has a lot of underlying themes that can be discussed thoroughly. Plus, I get the impression that the author might be the type who wrote a cool story but didn’t actually mean for it to be that purposely layered. Who knows. It’s the guy who wrote The Virgin Suicides, and it’s a cool book anyway, despite his goofy jacket picture.

Only 23 days until we leave for Colorado. Hu-freaking-zah, I’m deliriously excited. I hate summer in Kansas.

I think that’s it. Love to all.