Yes! Finally! Stuff to do! The rule of the winter malaise is on the verge of being beaten to death because all of a sudden, I have a bazillion awesome things to do.

Monday night, Amy in StL and I visited the topic of this week’s Dive Bomber (which will be up on Friday).  I’m happy to report that no one very nearly got murdered this time.

Tuesday, I spent the first part of the day working. I’m amazed at how invigorated having deadlines can be. I didn’t realized I missed them. The rest of the day and evening were spent with Kate. Dinner at Fletcher’s. Lots of Littlest Petsho-playing, birthday cake for her daughter, and watching TLC (The Lord-help-us-there-are Creepy-people channel). Kate and I are basicaly good people, but we learned that The Duggars and pageant moms make us a little evil.

Saying that when the Duggar’s create their 2878 child was likely akin to fucking an open van door? That was unnecessary. Kate and I won Tuesday’s Bad Feminists Award for that one.

In my constant efforts to redeem myself for my moments of poor behavior, I’ve embarked on yet another project to bring good to the world. More specifically, rock n’ roll to kiddos. That’s right – St. Louis is finally getting a Rock n’ Romp. I got sick of waiting for someone else to do the work, so I’m doing it my own damn self. You know I’ll tell you more as I confirm details.  So far we have a date (April 26th), a time (3-5 PM), and a locale (The Royale’s courtyard.) Now I just need a band. A free or cheap graphic designer would be a swell perk, too. Ponies are always great, but in this case, optional. Of course, it’s going to be a LiveFeed event. All kiddos need to bring a non-perishable food item to get in. Otherwise, the bouncer will toss ‘em out on their asses.

Wow. That’s a lot of details for less than 48 hours of work.

Another malaise-killer? The weather’s improved! When I picked up Clara Jane at school yesterday, she spread the word that she was going to the park. Minutes later, we had an impromptu play date ready to go. Hm. I’m wondering if perhaps my kid and I were both born with the gift of event-planning? Anyway, two hours at the park did all of us a world of good. It gave Clara Jane the energy to throw what held the promise of being a spectacular tantrum, but show was too tired to follow through. That, and she was suffering her first splinter trauma. O, but the screaming and weeping and terror and thrashing that followed upon splinter-removal last night! She was convinced that we were planning to systematically remove all the fingers on her left hand with tweezers. After nearly an hour of wrestling, I did what probably amounts to child abuse – I pinned her on the couch and yanked the offending little sliver out.

Later, she told me that she didn’t like that much because she was afraid I’d flatten her, like when boulders fall on SpongeBob. That’s $20 for her therapy fund, $10 for mine.

Next up on the busy-ness agenda: I’ve got to cook something really wretched today and write about it. Sweet gerkins will be implicated.