deeples

She, who sits on my shoulder ~ The Track~ Edna

July3

She, who sits on my shoulder…

I have decided that there is Good Me and Bad Me and we all reside together in an epic battle that is the Bad Me that is actually still good and the Good Me that is actually also good.  In other words, I’ve decided that at my core… my seeds and guts and and stuff…  I’m not a bad person.  I’m a good person, a good thing that has a dark side, sometimes.  For example, a unicorn is a good thing BASICALLY.  But, did you know there are both good and bad unicorns?  SHUT UP! YOU SO DID NOT!!!! But now, you do.

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The Track….

We went to the horse races today and it was the first time I’d been to Canterbury for something that wasn’t either poker or Lilith Fair. (Shut up.)  It was my Grandmother, my mother, Kory, The Baby, Steph and her son… and you know, I had a little tear in my throat at the thought that here we were… 4 generations of strong, beautiful, independent woman… at the track.

The thing that makes me suck at betting on horses is what makes me suck at roulette.  I want to bet on EVERYTHING.  Every horse. Every combination. Whatever will make me win.  In roulette if I am at a $5 minimum table, I put my $5 out there and then I have to literally sit on my hands or I just keep covering numbers with chips… every unchipped number screams at me, “MEEEEEE!  I’M GOING TO WIN, STUPID!!!!!!!!!” and I end up winning… but losing because I have more on the table than I’ve won.  Same thing with horses.

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Edna

Normally, she won’t keep anything on her head or face.  I put her in the ABSOLUTE CUTEST PIGGY TAILS THAT ARE SO ADORABLE YOU ALMOST WANT TO PUNCH YOURSELF IN THE FACE YOU ARE SO OVERWHELMED BY THE CUTENESS OF IT ALL… and she pulled them out in the car.  Again.  This makes 3 times this week.  The sunglasses are a new interest that she finds amusing. Pull them off Mommy’s face and cram them on her own, completely disregarding things like HER OWN EYE SOCKETS and EARDRUMS.  She smashes them on her face with no care for what orifice the arms may penetrate….  Today, however, the sun actually was bothering her and she was leaving my glasses on her face for astonishing periods of time.  They are so large on her she looks like a little Jewish woman on the beach in Long Island.

“MURRAY!  BRING ME ANOTHER MAI TAI!”

Itchy & Scratchy ~ What Matt Said ~ Easy Money

April29

Itchy & Scratchy

itchy et scratchy

I am both Itchy AND Scratchy.  I am also Weepy, Cussy, Yelly, and Lunaticy.  I spent 2 days sleeping and now I’ve spent the last 2 days NOT SLEEPING and instead crying on the couch at 3am, piling bags of corn and green beans and peas on my feet, hands and ankles and spitting and snarling at anyone who tries to approach me.   I now believe, INTENSELY, that itching is far, far, FAR worse than pain.  Pain, you can dull enough to sleep at night with pills or booze.  Pain, you can just sort of succumb to… but itching…  constant, unforgiving itching will truly make a person insane. 

I can’t swear to this, but it’s possible that if someone had offered to just saw my legs off below the knee for me last night, I would have at least considered the offerSincerely. I would have been more comfortable laying naked in an ant-pile while chickens pecked my eyes and David Archubarfa sang “It’s a Small World” in my ear…

The real question is, what the hell am I going to do with 4 bags of thawed vegetables?

What Matt Said

I still laugh when I think about an email my friend Matt sent me regarding my infusions. He wrote:

“Infusion sounds so innocuous – you usually hear it in terms of adding scents:  “this product is infused with the scent of lilacs and grandma’s apple pie.”

How can something that sounds so pleasant be so awful?”

I agree.  The old treatment used to be called “Dextran” – which totally sounded like a Decepticon or a villainous android.   The new one, Venofur, sounds like a sweet little fairy’s name.   Or maybe a wittle kitty.   Or a tiny wittle kitty with butterfly wings!

Evil Robot <—- DEXTRAN

Blue Fairy <–  Venofer

To the makers of iron infusions I say, “ DON’T SCAM ME, BUB.”

Let’s just call it “Black Screaming Willies” and be done with it.  

(The stuff is actually black, did I tell you that?)

Photobucket  <—  This is it.

Easy Money

Kory: (looking at The Baby this morning)  Look at her!

Me:  Cute, huh?

Kory:  She’s the most adorable thing EVER.  We made that!

Me: They should pay us to reproduce.

Kory:  I know!


 

posted under Triple play | 1 Comment »

Carly?! ~ Carrot Cake ~ Baby beer breath

April24

Carly?!

I seriously can’t believe that she and Syesha were in the bottom two.  I can NOT believe that both Jason and Brooke were safe because I would have, like, bet a basket of kittens that they would be the bottom two. 

These are the Black Weeks of Idol for me, every year…. when good people go and popular people stay even when they suck ass.   It always becomes particularly noticable when you get down the last 5 or 6.

 *almost passes out from Diana DeGarmo flashback*

Seacrest: Jason, how do you think you did last night?

Jason: Uh…..pfffff…. I dunno…..um…… I just don’t want to sing tonight……..

Enlighening as always, Jason, you TWIT.

And really, what would Brooke have to do to get kicked off?  In what way could she screw up badly enough that it isn’t “human” or endearing?

Obviously, the only way she’ll be voted off is if she calls David Archuleta a repressed midget and then throws up on the piano.

Carrot Cake

Cake………………………………………….  don’t like

Carrots………………………………………  don’t like

Raisins……………………………………….. don’t like

Coconut (aka “Ass Shavings”) ……. don’t like

Carrot Cake………………………………… love

I can’t explain it.

Baby Beer Breath

In the bathroom this morning, and I hear Kory yell from the living room, “OH NO! OH GOD!  GIVE ME THAT!!! OH GOD!!!!”

I run.  Because that sounds bad.

I see Kory chasing the running baby in a circle around the living room and she is gripping between her little hands a bottle of “Rising Moon” beer  (the special spring version of Blue Moon – it has lime peel in it and is quite good) that someone’s  father accidently left on the floor by the couch last night.

By the time he wrenches it from her hands, she’s spilled it on the floor and her shirt.  We wipe up the floor and take off her shirt — and god, nothing smells quite as strong and pungent and rude as old, hot beer that’s been spilled on fabric– and put a clean one on her.

The Baby is hollering and it looks like he’s trying to hug her or give her a kiss and she’s struggling and getting madder and finally I’m like, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

and he goes, “I’m trying to smell her breath!  Can you imagine what the daycare will think if her breath smells like old beer?!

He had a point.

Neither of us could smell anything, but we slipped her a pizza crust just to be sure.  Now she just smells like tomatoes and flour. 

Parenting. 

A new challenge every day…. some days, it’s helping her find her belly button! Some days, it’s helping her disguise her possible beer breath.

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