Sunday, March 25, 2007

Agent: Double-O-Bonehead

This weekend I proved to myself just how huge an asset I would be to the CIA.
This is a tale that begins with (and ends with and features in the middle) a shopping trip. To! The Grocery Store! which will hereafter be referred to as Whole Foods, or, That Place That Makes Me Feel Like A Huge Fucking Asshat As Well As Somewhat Superior To People Who Clearly Have More Sense Than Me And Show This By Not Shopping There.
I have this issue with grocery shopping. When shopping with low blood sugar I am a complete moron who aimlessly wanders up and down the aisles a little faster than I probably should, passing by all sorts of things that are on the list that I left at home or perhaps in my purse, it's too hard to look for it, necessitating several ill-planned circles through the store. I begin at the butcher to buy a chicken and then proceed to the frozen foods to buy some breakfast sausages for the children and then over to the crackers and on to produce before I remember that I was also supposed to buy some bacon and possibly some lunch-meats which are way over back by the butcher and half way through ordering my salami from the flustered WF ex-con deliman with all sorts of scary arm tattoos I remember that I need milk and yogurt and also some pickles but I can never remember where the fucking pickles are and before I can find them I've been shanghaied in the smelly shampoo section and then I realize that I forgot to get a piece of ginger and while I'm back getting the ginger I realize that I also need a pork tenderloin to go with the ginger and then
And then my head hurts and I invariably have a crying baby and maybe I need some tampons? but I'll probably forget those as well as the diapers and coffee beans and I'll have to go out later.
So! I was telling this story. Oh, right, the shopping trip. Rest assured that when my blood sugar is in good working order I can make it through the store with almost no back-tracking which is awesome and makes me feel like a really great human being even though I sometimes shop at Whole Foods. Also let me make it very clear that the scatterbrained horror that is me in need of a warm meal but instead at a grocery store is always exacerbated by Whole Foods itself. I am almost never that much of a basketcase in any other store. Except Macys. But that's a whole other thing.
So there I was the other day, stupid as anything and probably looking for mushrooms with the papertowels, when I remembered that I needed mozzarella and I can never remember where they keep the mozzarella so I wandered over to the cheese lady to ask her and on this particular trip I was using only a basket and my superior mental abilities to get me through and as I leaned over to ask the cheese lady about the mozzarella I sort of swung my basket behind me and out of the corner of my eye I noticed a young woman with a phone. She had her phone pointed at my basket all camera-phone style. She was taking pictures of my food! In my basket! That I totally hadn't bought yet! But was planning to! I totally forgot what I was going to ask the cheese lady about so when she offered me something goaty I totally took it and stuck it in my gob and made happy faces and bought some as if to say that this is exactly why I came over here, to taste some cheese that is really fucking goaty and then to buy some. (It was really expensive. I think) But now my plans had changed. Now, instead of food shopping I was a citizen committed to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck this girl was up to with her empty basket (because yes! her basket was empty! It was just for show! I am a master-sleuth! Bow before my mighty brain!)
Ok, this story is lame. Suffice it to say that I followed this poor girl all around the goddamed store, like, three times (at one point I was afraid of being found out so I had to throw all my groceries in a cart because that was the only option in the part of the store that I followed her to besides some expensive and bedraggled looking lilies and hotdamn I'd already spent my sleuthing budget on goaty cheese) before she finally put her empty basket back and left. Aaaand by that time the baby was fussing and I was really really fucking hungry so I bought a cup of coffee and finished my shopping, probably. I'm not sure. I was still all shaken up by the young woman who had infiltrated my Whole Foods on some kind of treasure hunt and by buying nothing was able to spend several hundreds of dollars less than I did on my one basket of groceries and so I hate her and she is now classified by me as an enemy of the state.
The end.

Friday, March 16, 2007

oooooh, I feel so deviant

Today I bought a sunroom set that originally lived at the Bohemian Grove. Thus far I have had no overwhelming desire to cross dress or burn effigies in front of some goddamned plastic owl or snort cocaine off of the mirrored side table. But sitting on the 70-something year old horsehair stuffed cushions and resting my feet on the matching footstool does make me feel a little, you know...ICKY might not be the right word for it, but...unbearably cool? Maybe.

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

yes, I know!

This is lame! And completely un-newsworthy! But! The kids! Are quoting! The Mighty Boosh! I am remembering why I agreed to feed and protect them!
The Mighty Freaking Boosh!
And now, for some 'splainin.
No, I have not lost my nut and let the kids watch The Mighty Boosh, never mind how much I really want to do nothing but that. Verily, this is a show DESIGNED for children, or grown-ups with the minds of children.
The husband and I watched a completely freaking hilarious stage show wherein Bollo (a man in a gorilla suit. Fucking comedy GOLD, that) believes himself to be auditioning for Peter Jackson for the title role in King Kong and he keeps saying things like, "Peter! Can you see me Peter! Are you watching me act, Peter!" Now say it in English-accented Gorilla.
Yeah, that's right. Fucking funny as shit.
So now the children say it as well.
Take that, Waldorf kindergarten.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

...brought to you by the age 6

Peanut: "Today, guess what, do you know that princesses can have babies at any age? Like when they're 3 or 1? Or any age? They're like dogs and cats, princesses are."
Two days ago the peanut approached me with a great quandary: "Why do people say that princesses have wands? They don't have wands. FAIRY princesses have wands, but not regular princesses."
So...princesses are only magic enough to have babies AS babies, but not magic enough to warrant the magic wand accessory.
Consider thyself done taught.

Monday, March 05, 2007

Happy birthday to the bean

The bean, he is four years old today. Four years ago today I was squirming in misery on a hard hospital bed waiting for this new little person to make his appearance. Here's a shout out to you, my boy. May you have more happy birthdays that I can count and here's to you not breaking your neck in your new Blunnies that you HAD to wear to school today even though they'd fit your sister.
I have more love for you than I know what to do with.

Thursday, March 01, 2007

oh my god the POX!

Holy hell. Is all I have to say.
Man, I so thought I was out of the woods with this whole baby-getting-chicken-pox thing that I got all cocky and irritating. I'm all, oh, hell no, he's not gonna get it cause look at me! All breastfeeding and shit! La la la! Are immune to all that crap!
Oh, but no.
I think, though, that we have turned the corner. Instead of being mildly cranky with clear little blisters we are now completely cranky with big fat itchy crusty sores. We are sooooo sexy. Totally gonna get us one of those Future Porn Star t-shirts all the kids are talking about.