I know I keep linking to these, but Marie Green’s latest in the “she would like another baby but her husband would not” series is killing me, and I think I’ve checked the comments section two dozen times: An Appointment to Erase Hope.

To counteract the sad, I love Anne’s post about Holiday Percentages and How to Make It Merry. Not only did I like her points about how to improve the holidays by choosing the parts you LIKE and doing THOSE, but she’s doing a giveaway of her holiday cookies and I am VERY FOND of holiday cookies. You can enter as many times as you want, as long as each entry includes something you love about the holidays.

There are so many embarrassing Veterans Day discounts today. Have you seen any? I saw “10% off earrings for all our servicepeople!” and “Veterans: show ID and get $5 off oil change!” *WINCE* It would be far better to have NO discount. “Thanks for risking your life in other countries far away from your families! Here, have a free value-size fries (when you pay full price for the burger and drink) (must show military ID)!”

I finished all 1,000 pages of Under the Dome, and I am ready to report:

1. It felt like a recipe: one part apocalyptic scenario, one part bad cops, one part crazy religion, one part descending into madness, one part power corrupts, one part supernatural, one part social/environmental lecture. I’ve read a lot of Stephen King books, so it’s not really HIS fault I kept recognizing his recurring themes.

2. It didn’t seem real. It felt like he was saying, “Okay, now I guess we should have a supermarket riot,” “Okay, now there should be a nasty murder,” “Okay, now there should be the discovery of something gross,” and bringing people out of their houses to participate. I felt like most of the characters were in their houses in a state of suspended animation, waiting for him to need them for a scene. Why weren’t more of them hanging around at the edge of the dome? Why didn’t we hear more about the agitation of the family members stuck outside? Why didn’t people make arrangements for their dog before killing themselves? Why DIDN’T people buy up everything at the supermarket, considering that’s what they do if even HEAVY RAIN is in the forecast? And you know, if you (the author) keep having to have people shake their heads in astonishment at how FAST everything happened, then maybe that is a clue that it IS IN FACT happening too fast.

3. He needs help naming his characters. Their names often don’t fit their ages, and it happens often enough to be confusing. In fiction, names can be a valuable way to help the reader keep track of who’s who. And it’s nice to give the characters names that are different enough from each other that the reader doesn’t get the characters confused. Oh, sure, I know that in real life there can be a girl in her twenties named Barbara and co-workers named Bill Borfen and Bob Biffan, but in FICTION we can CHOOSE the names, so LET’S DO A CAREFUL JOB SHALL WE?

4. The only part of the ending that was a surprise to me was in the afterword where he thanks his editor. His EDITOR. I mean, I knew he MUST have one but there are so many jokes about him NOT having one, I guess I just thought….and besides, if I were extremely successful I would not want much editing, either. And gosh, would you want the job of telling an internationally-bestselling author that if his character said “clustermug” ONE MORE TIME you were QUITTING?

5. I read it, all the way through, and enjoyed reading it. It wasn’t my favorite, but it was a good book if you like Stephen King books, which I often do.

I got tired of my hair being long. It was fun for awhile, and fun when it grew long enough for braids, and fun when it grew long enough to be rolled into a nice smooth bun. But the way I REALLY like to wear my hair is in a sproingy (i.e., ends fountaining instead of tucked) French twist, and that stopped working sometime last spring. That’s when I started the process of Intending to Make a Hair Appointment, and please note that today is a day in November—six to eight months past spring.

The other day I caught a glimpse of myself in a store mirror, and I SIGHED about my hair: I don’t have bangs, so a bun can look kind of severe, especially with my glasses and not wearing much make-up. I pulled out the bun so it was a ponytail instead, but it looked long and draggy and I didn’t feel cute.

Yesterday I tried wearing it down but it wasn’t a flattering look, so then I tried to put it in a bun but it was too dry for that to work right, so then I tried a ponytail and it looked wavy in some places and straight in others and the general effect was “got out of bed and put hair right into ponytail” combined with “way overdue for a haircut.”

And this kind of thing has been going on for MONTHS. But…to make an appointment, I’d have to use the phone, and I’d have to find a time that worked for the stylist and for me, and it would have to be a time when I didn’t have children with me and GAH. So this morning I cut it myself.

Practical, sensible, and economical? Or disturbing manifestation of increasing mental illness? I think as a culture we decide such things by the RESULT: if Britney Spears had looked gorgeous with a shaved head we would have been wowed by her nerve and style.

(Doesn’t my face look kind of naked without my glasses?
You can tell I can’t see you.)

The ends are not as crisp as when my stylist does it (I have good haircutting scissors I use for the kids’ haircuts, but they’re not PROFESSIONAL-good scissors, just regular good) (er, plus I don’t know what I’m doing like a trained haircutter does), and it’s a plain blunt cut with no shaping or layering so it’ll be a little triangular when it dries. It still could use an actual appointment with an actual person who knows how to cut hair.

But as a haircut that was meant to remove 5-6 inches of extra length until I get around to making such an appointment, I am very pleased with it. I only had to go around the perimeter once for the main removal part: no “Oops, this side is longer. Oops, now the other side is longer. Oops, CRAP.” And now it’s short enough to avoid ouchie tangles, short enough to use one box of hair color instead of two, and short enough for a flippy French twist. HAPPY.

I THINK I have solved The Puzzle of the Capitulating Sister-in-Law. You remember that she was all “Hey, my plan for splitting the estate is that I will take the house, the car, the money (to fix the house), and the stocks (for my retirement), and YOUR share will be that you get to pay half for all future house repairs, decade after decade, and if you’re lucky I’ll die before you and you’ll get back some of the money you sank into the money pit!” And we were all, “Uh, no, we’re not taking out a mortgage to pay for what would be your house,” and she was all “SIGH FINE I will also pay the property taxes GEEZ, NOW are you happy?!” And then we were like, okay, one more email before we consult a lawyer, and, “Hey, how about we split everything 50-50 but the house is in your half and we don’t pay any repairs?” and she said “Okay, sure!” And we were all “….???”

The theories for this sudden capitulation included:

1. She was operating on the “Can’t hurt to ask for what I want!” principle, and backed down when Paul declined.

2. She complained to a friend about the situation and the friend said, “Are you NUTS???”

3. She had a sudden flash of awareness and insight.

4. She had a stroke.

5. The spirit of my late mother-in-law left her body.

6. She went back on her meds.

7. She found gold coins in the back yard or made some other discovery about the $25,000 house being actually worth much, much more—or had an offer on the house for much, much more.

8. She has a wily plan.

9. She has failed to understand our counteroffer and thinks we agreed to her plan.

10. It’s a trap.

11. She reads my blog.

But now we have more information, and I THINK I know what happened. This whole issue started, if you recall, or rather if I told you so you CAN recall, because the lawyer handling the estate wrote to Paul and Paul’s sister, saying “Time to let me know what you’re doing about the house.” And Paul kept waiting several days between emails to his sister. And when, after his sister unexpectedly capitulated, Paul contacted the lawyer to say, “Okay, here’s how we’re dividing things up,” the lawyer sent back a letter saying that we should be aware that in this situation where there is no will, the court will insist that the estate is divided 50-50 TO THE PENNY, and that the court will need to grant separate permissions for each item that will be kept rather than sold, because cash is so much easier to divide.

So first of all, here is my theory: that AFTER Paul’s sister emailed us with her plan, but BEFORE Paul emailed back to say “FORGET IT SISTER,” Paul’s sister emailed the lawyer to tell him the plan she assumed we were accepting. And the lawyer told her about the 50-50 thing. And so then when Paul said forget it, she had already been forced to abandon her plan.

And second of all, this is AWESOME. The court is MAKING SURE.

And third of all, couldn’t the lawyer have mentioned this EARLIER, BEFORE I ground my molars into flour?

Laughter and distraction have been HIGHLY VALUED this week as I’ve been stressing over the situation with Paul’s mom’s estate.

I laughed all the way through Kacy’s Candy Policy. AND I changed my candy policy as a result: the bigs can now monitor their own candy consumption. (The littles all voted against it for some reason; perhaps they didn’t understand?)

I also laughed all the way through Temerity Jane’s The Last 12 Weeks, which caught us up to date on the part of her recently-revealed pregnancy we’d missed before she revealed it.

And I’ve been fully enjoying the Fakesgiving updates (Thanksgiving dinner rehearsals) by Life of a Doctor’s Wife.

For distraction, I’m using the method I discovered in high school when trying not to die of over-thinking the end of a romantic relationship: read horror novels. I’m working on Stephen King’s Under the Dome, even though I haven’t been able to get past 50 pages in the last two Stephen King books I tried. My main problem is the way each main character has about 5 words they say/think again and Again and AGAIN until I feel like I need to strangle. Another problem is the “view from inside the mind of someone going crazy,” which I don’t mind in one occasionally-visited character but don’t want to read 900 pages of, especially if the method for indicating mental slippage is going to be gross words for things and endless flits into italics.

For those who don’t follow me on Twitter (and for heaven’s sake, why NOT? I alternately bore you and stress you!), here is a recap of what happened:

Paul’s Mother: *dies*

Paul’s sister Beth: Awesome, I’ll keep living in the Mother’s 3-bedroom house, but now I don’t have to pay her rent anymore! Also, I’ll keep her 2-year-old Camry, because in addition to having my roommates kick me out, I never bought a car!

(A year goes by.)

Paul: Hey, Beth, the lawyer says it’s time to figure out how to divide the estate!

Beth: Okay! How about I keep the house but you take out a mortgage with me to pay for the repairs?

Swistle: *reads appraisal* *realizes repairs will FAR EXCEED value of house* *panics*

Paul: Wait. How about you keep the house and the car and I keep the stocks and cash? My half will be much less, but I’d like you to have what you need.

Beth: But it would be beneficial for me to keep the house and also the stocks and also the cash, plus have you paying for half the repairs on the house, even though those repairs will cost more than the value of the house. You’ll get half the selling price of the house, but we won’t sell it until I die! Plus, you can get a really good rate on a mortgage right now!

Paul: We’re not co-owning the house. Either you take it as part of your half of the estate, or we sell it.

Beth: Okay, fine, I’ll pay the taxes, because I’m sure that’s your issue with co-owning the house, and we’ll co-own the house, and you’ll pay half the repairs but get no benefit. Also, I’ll keep the stocks, because those would be beneficial for me in my retirement. Also, don’t worry, we’ll use the cash from the estate to pay to make the house better for me, so you can wait to take out that mortgage!

Swistle: *panics*

Paul: I realize it would be beneficial for you to have half the stocks AND live in the house I’m half-paying for, but that’s would not be in ANY WAY “beneficial” for ME, dumbass.

Swistle: *realizes sister-in-law is out of her head, and that a lawyer will probably need to be involved*

Beth: Okay! I’m suddenly and inexplicably being reasonable! I’ll take the house and the car as my half!

********

Paul’s interpretation of these inexplicable events: She wasn’t DELIBERATELY cheesing us, she just hadn’t thought it through! But now she has!

Swistle’s interpretation: She is THIRTY-FOUR. She is able to comprehend these things. So either this is a trap (eg., she found gold buried in the back yard, or discovered the crazily low appraisal (($25,000 for house and property)) was dramatically wrong), or there is something unpleasant coming (eg., it will turn out she still thinks she gets the estate cash to repair the house and/or that we’ll pay for future repairs), or she vented to someone who said to her “ARE YOU NUTS??,” or she’s had a stroke, or she thought there was no harm in TRYING to get the entire inheritance but backed off as soon as Paul showed backbone.

********

In any case, it’s not over until the estate is settled. I’m not counting ANY chickens.

I hope all you U.S. peeps managed to vote yesterday without me personally reminding you to do it, because I forgot. I mean, I forgot to remind, not I forgot to vote. I have trouble working up the oomph to do a non-presidential election, so I’m glad Paul is gung-ho about it. My mom came over to watch the kids, and we voted and then went out to dinner.

This was a nice way to do it because then we could go off to dinner feeling all happy and dutiful to have voted, and I felt relieved to be done with the worst part, which is the long walk past the line of candidates and campaigners. I don’t know what to do with my EYES. I don’t want them to TALK to me, and I don’t want them to read anything into my eye contact or lack thereof. This time I tried a new strategy, which was to smile hugely at everyone. That worked pretty well.

So we voted, and I lingered a bit in the voting booth so it wouldn’t look like I was treating this responsibility lightly, and then we went to a restaurant we’ve been to twice before, and we ordered exactly what we ordered on the two previous occasions. We got a chip dip that is probably cheese soup with a huge chunk of Velveeta melted into it and spicy sausage bits sprinkled on top, and then Paul got the chicken tacos and I got the fish. The fish looks HORRIBLE, and in fact the first time I ordered it I was dismayed—until I started eating it. It’s just haddock with stir-fried zucchini and bell peppers and onions piled on it, so it shouldn’t be anything special but it’s SO GOOD. And with the dip, which is HEARTY and PLENTIFUL, I only have room for half the fish, so I have the other half for lunch the next day (though then I feel the absence of the dip and wish for more).

Where was I? Oh yes! Voting! Did you? Or do you feel deadened to the election process, as I often do until I’m walking to the booth with my ballot and hearing stately patriotic music playing in my head?

Last night was poorer quality sleep than I’m used to these days. At 12:30 there was Inexplicable Crying from Elizabeth, the kind where she isn’t wailing but just low-grade crying that doesn’t stop and she won’t answer questions about what’s wrong. I lay down with her for awhile but that didn’t help either, so finally I took her up to our room. Then she stopped crying and went right to sleep, while I lay awake thinking about how my sister-in-law responded that no, she wants to jointly own the house with us AND take half the cash inheritance “for her financial stability,” and she says the good news is we can get a really great deal on a home equity loan to pour money into the money pit.

You will be glad to know that Paul’s comment to me was “Screw that!,” but it still means continuing to deal with this. (We’re going to say, “Okay, then, let’s sell the house as-is, because LIKE BLELL we’re going to have ANOTHER mortgage to pay off, and this one on a house SOMEONE ELSE lives in, and for repairs that will not increase the value of the house by as much as they cost.”) (This will not go over well, I suspect, to someone who would even think to make such a suggestion to begin with.) (And in any case now we have to deal with real estate and Waiting For the House to Maybe Sell, and also with Prying the Sister-in-Law Out of It and so forth.) (Groan.)

So anyway I lay awake for quite awhile, thinking thoughts such as, “Oh, you’d rather do it that way, would you? Wouldn’t we ALL prefer to have someone else pay half our mortgage!!” and “Don’t you realize that if we decline your Awesome Plan you will need to pay RENT elsewhere, and that if you add up those years of rent payments you will get a number that EXPONENTIALLY EXCEEDS the piddling cash inheritance?” and feeling angry at the tone of her email and many of her word choices. And then I fell asleep, and at 4:30 I heard William call out. I went in, and he said he had a really bad headache, and he indicated one temple. I said “Just on one side?” and immediately started the Fret Process (have I heard Something Bad about headaches that are only on one side? or that start at night? or in children this age?). I got him up and gave him some acetaminophen, and this involved going downstairs to see if we had another box of it, but we didn’t, but I was sure we did, so then I went back upstairs to root around in the upstairs bathroom some more, and then finally gave him the liquid kind and put him back to bed. And then I just stayed up, because I was wide awake and would have to get up in an hour anyway. It was a good decision: Henry called out at 5:00, saying he “NEEDA PEE!!”

We have sent our first email to my sister-in-law, suggesting she keep the house (and the car, which it turns out she and Paul already arranged for her to keep) as her share of the inheritance and we keep the cash/stocks as our share. WE SHALL SEE. I did manage to talk Paul out of fixing the roof for her, but he is still being family-weirdness about the whole thing. I was reduced to saying that it is NORMAL for a grown adult to have to pay for housing, and so if she has to get a home equity loan (i.e., a MORTGAGE) to pay for repairs on her house, that will be part of a NORMAL LIFE that includes paying either rent or mortgage, and her mortgage payment will be VASTLY lower than OURS—and he STILL was acting weird about it, like maybe she shouldn’t have to make either housing payments or car payments or ANYTHING? I don’t know.

And if she declines the house, the next step is to say, “Okay, then, let’s sell it.” Maybe some contractor will buy it and do that thing where they fix it up fast with odds and ends of tile and flooring and cover everything with a thick coat of paint in Rental Cream. But I hope it doesn’t come to this, because the thought of trying to EXTRICATE the sister-in-law from the house gives me a headache.

I went to Target today for some therapy. I’ve been a bit of an emotional mess the last few days, and also my jaw is getting sore from the clenching. So it was good timing for a successful/fun Target trip:

This is the crowning glory, so I should really leave it for last but I can’t wait. I’ve been wanting this John Derian print ever since I first saw it for $24.99. Then I saw it for $17.48 and didn’t buy it. Then I saw it for $12.48 and didn’t buy it. Today I saw it for $6.24 and I BOUGHT IT.

This is the crowning glory as far as Elizabeth is concerned: rainbow-sparkle Hello Kitty shoes. These weren’t even on clearance, but they were on sale for $10 down from $14.99. I can’t even explain why I bought them. Oh, of course I can: (1) rainbow (2) sparkle (3) Hello Kitty.

For Henry, a new dinosaur shirt, not on sale but only $5.00, and my policy on dinosaur shirts is “Buy them.” And pants on clearance 50% off, $5.00.

I did not want a little pot of lip balm for $3.44 when I could get something very similar for a dollar. But for $.84, yes I will try antioxidants/E/aloe/chamomile/mint, thank you.

Boring but satisfying: $2.54 tape refill for my chicken, marked down to $.63.

Not a huge clearance, but I have trouble resisting girl stuff: pink patent leather shoes, $6.98 down from $9.99.

Four new hand towels, $.98 each down from $3.99 each.

My favorite shower gel, $2.50 down from $5.00.

Not even on sale, but I’m hoping these foot supporty thingies will help my shins to hurt less when I walk/jog. I have arches that totally flatten when I stand up, and these supports have low, medium, and high snap-ins so you (or rather _I_) can choose the one that feels best.

This set of 4 bowls was only $1.99 to begin with, but it’s pleasing to get them for $.48: we have another set (the yellows/greens set) that we used as berry-picking/outdoors bowls last summer, but there are 7 of us and only 4 bowls, so it’s nice to have more.