1. If you’d like to play along, reply to this post and I’ll assign you a letter.
2. You then list (and upload or link to the video, if you feel like it) 5 songs that start with that letter.
3. Then, as I’m doing here, you’ll post the list to your journal with the instructions.

I was given… “H”. And since I can do this, I’m embedding tracks in WordPress. Hah!

• [See post to listen to audio] Home By The Sea / Second Home By The Sea (Genesis) – I love this piece. I just plain love it. Especially the various live renditions with the dual drummers. This sort of thing is what I love about Genesis.
• [See post to listen to audio] Hallo Spaceboy (David Bowie w/ Pet Shop Boys) – Two great tastes that go great together.
• [See post to listen to audio] Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger (Daft Punk) – Let’s be honest: They’re probably never going to top this.
• [See post to listen to audio] Hyperactive (Thomas Dolby) – This is one of those love-it-or-hate-it songs from Mr. Dolby, and I happen to love it. I can see why some people don’t enjoy it as much, though.
• [See post to listen to audio] Heat (Jethro Tull) – Speaking of love-or-hate, this is from the Tull album which is the most “electronic” they ever released, and it drove the die-hard fans batty. One of the things I like about it is that nearly the entire album could be used as the soundtrack to a cheesy 80′s spy caper flick… especially this track.

And there you go. Anybody want a letter of their own to run with?

Well, that’s a strange thing to find myself saying, now isn’t it? Not the “proud parent” part; I’ve been that for a number of years now, since I have two awesome offspring. It’s the “college student” part I’m still wrapping my brain around. Not that we haven’t known it was coming. Alex applied and was accepted to DigiPen a while ago, with financial aid sorted out a few weeks ago along with the living situation.

On Sunday, however, he actually left Portland. The Seattle area is his home now and will be for at least the next four years, potentially much longer. (That’s where a lot of the jobs are, after all.)

Funny thing is, I was fine up until Saturday afternoon when the kids got on the #9 bus for home at the end of what was the Spud’s final weekly parental visitation time. We hugged, and they got on the bus, and I damned near lost it. Fine time to get emotional, eh?

Mind you, he turns 18 about ten days from now. That’s not the part which makes me feel odd. (No, not “feel old,” because my failing joints take care of that very nicely, thankyouverymuch.) It’s that he’s off to school in another state and just plain doesn’t need his folks anymore. (Miss, possibly. Care about, certainly. But need? Not hardly, except for making sure his pesky finances are covered. Heh.)

I guess that means we did our job right… right?

Now all I have to do is help get the younger child up on her own two feet and my work is complete… insofar as parenting is ever really done, of course.

So, take it from me:

Unlike their cousins, the “Beddar [sic] with Cheddar” smoked sausages, Johnsonville’s “BOLD [wtf] Chili Cheese” smoked sausages are to be avoided at all costs.

Eww. I have another day’s worth of them to get through and I’m not sure that starvation isn’t a better option.

Why? Oh, it goes something like this… starting in late May…Dramatis Personae:

• GD – Your long-suffering chroma-impaired waterfowl
• DP – Future learning establishment of the eldest offspring
• SL – Government agency tasked with making the lives of parents with college-aged kids pure hell

DP: Okay, we need you to get an ID code and go to SL’s website, fill out a form, and we’re all done!

GD: Sure, I’m on it! All the best for the boy!

SL: Here’s your form, hop to it.

GD: *type* *click* *click* *type* *click* Wait WHERE DID IT GO?

SL: Where did what go?

GD: My completed form. You just said it was all done, now it’s gone.

SL: What’s gone?

GD: *headdesk* Okay, DP, what do I do now?

DP: That’s weird. Hold on… okay, here’s a number to call.

GD: *dials number*

SL: Uh, wrong department. Try this other number.

GD: *dials other number*

SL: Hi, how can I help you?

GD: *explains predicament*

SL: That’s weird. Did you click on this, that, and the other thing?

GD: Yes.

SL: Huh. That’s weird.

GD: We’ve established that. What do we do to fix it?

SL: Well, how about you take the completed-form preview, print that out, and overnight it to us. We’ll have it processed in three-to-five business days.

GD: Let me get this straight… an electronic system that’s supposed to have me in and out in a few minutes, no muss no fuss no messy cleanup… isn’t working right, and the answer is for me to print out a physical copy of a nearly-complete form and mail that to you.

SL: Correct! We’ll have it processed in three-to-five business days.

GD: *sigh* Okay. *prints* *signs* *seals* *pays $30 to have papers sent overnight to Alabama*

TIME: *passes*

DP: Do you have that form completed yet?

GD: I sent it to them days ago. They should have it.

DP: They say they never got it.

GD: $ExpressCarrier says otherwise. I have the tracking # to prove it.

DP: Aha! They say they got it, now. We should have results in two days.

FOUR DAYS: *pass*

GD: So, DP, about those results…

DP: They lost the paperwork.

GD: WHAT.

DP: Uh, you have that tracking #?

GD: Yes. Here.

DP: I’ll be in touch.

DAYS: *go by* (*and still I think of you*)

DP: Good news, they found it! We should have results in just a couple of days.

GD: Yay! Rejoice!

TIME: *keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping* *into the future*

DP: Bad news, they lost it! I need you to call them…

GD: I’ll call them RIGHT NOW!

DP: … on Monday, because their systems are down. Here’s a crap-ton of information you’ll need.

GD: WHAT.

DP: I’m very, very sorry about this.

GD: *sigh* Not your fault. *takes copious notes*

MONDAY: *I wish it were Sunday* *’cause that’s my fun day*

GD: *dials number*

SL: I’m sorry, Mario, but your princess is at another phone number.

GD: *curses* *dials another number*

SL: Hello! Ah, your reference number is… filled with copious notes. What a mess.

GD: You. Don’t. Say.

SL: So, have you tried filling out the form on the website?

GD: *tries to Force-choke someone through the phone* *fails* Yes. Just this morning, in fact, just on the off-chance it would actually work. It failed.

SL: Ah, I see that it failed because of [confidential data redacted]. We’ll have to change the ID #.

GD: Sure thing, how?

SL: Do you see it on the form?

GD: *scans form top to bottom, side-to-side, inside-and-out* No.

SL: Are you SURE?

GD: *resists urge to scream* Quite.

SL: Uh. BRB. *puts me on hold*

GD: *listens to generally-inoffensive muzak*

SL: Right, so the ID # is hiding in plain sight. It’s actually listed as something else entirely that looks like part of an unrelated portion of the form.

GD: Huh.

SL: Yes, I’m as baffled as you are. So here’s what we do… *copious instructions*

GD: *scribbles notes furiously* Okay, got it.

So… A month and a half in, what’s the solution to making this all work? Printing out a blank copy of the form, filling in the blanks manually (well, kind of: I copy/pasted text via an online PDF editor to make sure there wouldn’t be legibility problems), and hiking over to the nearby pack-and-ship outfit during lunchtime to send off yet another version of a ten-page financial aid form to Alabama.

By the by? Those hole-in-the-wall pack-and-ship places are convenient, but they’re obligated (as is their right, and it’s not like UPS or FedEx will cut them any slack) to tack some extra cost onto their shipping services. What cost $30 three Fridays ago would’ve cost close to $45 today… so I cheaped out and only spent $32 for 2nd-day service.

Argh.

So, will this do the trick? I have no idea. Stay tuned…

I think I’m glad that I didn’t graduate from a larger school, because good grief it took a long time to get through all of those kids’ awards and diplomas and what-not. At first we were delighted that Alex was sitting in the front row… then we found that they were cycling kids through starting from the back rows. It worked out, actually: It would’ve been much more tedious being elated early on at his name being called, then sitting through half an hour or so of listening to other kids’ names.

The girl playing the harp during one of the entertainment interludes was quite good, however. Staggering home at nearly 11pm after an event which started at 8pm wasn’t all that good… worth it, mind you. I feel like I’ve fulfilled one of those critical parenting milestones, you know? Yes, it’s as cool a feeling as you think it is.

My daughter, meanwhile, has a couple of years yet to go on her high school career. She just finished up and posted her art-class “final” project on her gallery, though, and I rather like it. Apparently she’s getting very good use out of that drawing tablet computer accessory.

I have awesome kids.

Not last night, though.

Full-volume music. Several conversations taking place outside at full volume simultaneously. People wandering out to the street to be noisy gits. And this went on well past 11pm.

And past midnight.

And past 1am.

The party didn’t wind down until two-freaking-thirty in the morning. (And it took another half hour or so for me to calm down enough to be able to sleep. Joy.)

Icing on the cake? Eight-o’clock rolls around and one of them decides to drive somewhere… announcing this fact by blaring their car stereo for a couple of minutes before driving off.

Yeah, they’ve had their exceptional party. I hope they enjoyed it, because if they try it again, cops will be called. Persistently and promptly. After a generally crappy week of work, this was precisely what I did not need. Grrrr.