Jul 262014
 

Another exhausting week in the books. Time to unwind with BULLET POINT TIME!

  • The other day at work, I was reminded of my old co-worker Eleanor and her husband, Pete. The story of Pete—or “Pee Pop,” as Eleanor called him—is that many years ago when he was in THE SERVICE, he got in a bar fight and was hit on the head so hard with a cue ball that he died. Except that when he was in the body bag, the coroner noticed that he was MOVING. So, not actually dead after all. However, he sustained massive brain injuries from the fight and was never able to function properly again. This means that Pee Pop was unable to figure out the TV so he would call Eleanor at work EVERY NIGHT and she would have to walk him through the steps of turning the TV on and then she would have to go online and bring up the program schedule and read to him what was playing on every channel until he found something he wanted to watch and then she would have to slowly tell him how to get to that channel. She would do all of these things very lovingly, but the moment she slammed the phone down, she would hiss, “GodDAMMIT.”
  • Last week, Chooch bought my nemesis a popsicle and I’m still shaking with anger over it. I keep seeing Nemesis on my front porch, deep-throating that fucking popsicle, and smugly saying, “Riley bought it for me.” FFFFUUUUCCCKKK.
  • Henry surprised me the other night with a date! Like, a “going out” date, not one of the most popular fruits of Arabian Peninsula. Although I would have accepted that, too. Anyway, I will spare you the saccharine details, but my whole point is that Henry reached over and took a piece of my pizza and then asked, “Is that a beet?” I shook my head and said that it was just a funny tasting potato. “No, that’s a beet. Didn’t you read the menu?” I admitted that I only scan menu descriptions to make sure there isn’t bacon or other meats hidden under cheese, and Henry just sighed. Apparently, my pizza had potatoes AND beets on it and that’s how I found out after nearly 35 years that I like beets, apparently. It was a good fucking pizza.
  • United Nations is playing here in a few weeks and I might cry. It’s been too long since I saw real, authentic screamo live:

  • Chooch has some keyboard app on his phone that reminds me so much of those little plastic keyboards that were prevalent in the 80s and literally every drug store sold them. I was especially reminded of them when Chooch was reading out loud the list of songs included and one was WE ARE THE WORLD! I got really excited (???) because that song was the plastic keyboard staple—it came with EVERY one of those damn things I ever bought. So I made Chooch watch the video for We are the World and I was giddily shouting the names of every single singer and Chooch, totally annoyed, said, “You think I actually know who these people are?” WELL, YOU’RE GONNA LEARN.
  • Henry had to take the trolley this morning and texted me to complain that the trolley driver yelled at him for paying before asking for a transfer and I was just like “OK n00b.
  • Oh boy, my brother just texted me from New Jersey to tell me he made a drunken impulse purchase on the boardwalk last night and would Chooch like to have a hermit crab. My hermit crab success rate is not very good (here’s to you, Tabasco and Dijon) but hey, why not.
  • I bought some jewelry from Never Take It Off last week and I am especially in love with this ring that was designed by Jess Bowen of The Summer Set. I like how simple bands look over top of my finger tattoo but I lost the one I usually wear on it.

    And since Henry is likely never going to give me a proper ring to put on that finger, I bought this one for myself and it’s perfect. I also bought the Warped Tour feather bracelet. If you’re into jewelry with meaning, I highly recommend Never Take It Off! (This bracelet benefits Big Cat Rescue, for example!)

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  • The other night, Henry and I sat together and perused the line-up again for Riot Fest and he actually mentioned some bands that he “wouldn’t mind” seeing, MY HENRY IS GROWING UP! I seriously stare at that line-up at least twice a day and keep seeing more bands that I somehow glossed over the first 82349837489 times I looked at it and I am actually sick to my stomach with anticipation, you have no idea.
  • We’re having some baseball-themed food fest at work next month so I signed Henry up to make a pie.

    One of my most favoritest things in the world is dreaming up new pies for Henry to make and I have a pretty sweet idea for this one.

  • About three times a year, I get really serious about my serial killer card shop on Etsy and start churning out new designs like there’s no tomorrow. (What does that even mean.) So my focus on the blog has been pretty spotty because I never learned how to divide my attention. (Which is why I could never have more than one child.) Henry wants to start making his own envelopes to go along with our greeting cards which is hilarious to me because of how much of a faux-emphasis I put on envelopes in my card descriptions. But then when he pointed out I could incorporate my beloved and ubiquitous stripes into the envelopes, shit got REAL.
    • These cards are, hilariously, the only thing that I do in life that I can sincerely say I’m proud of.
  • My mom used to make me go with her to “the fat doctor” when I was a kid and I would have to sit in the dark, wood-paneled waiting room with a water fountain that tasted like vitamins. I had this weird flashback of those days recently, and it’s been driving me crazy because I have no idea what part of town that doctor’s office was, but I know there was a Paper Mart (or some other kind of paper store) nearby that my mom would take me afterward so I could buy stationery because I was really into pen-palling back then. I had over 100 pen pals at one time, and that’s no exaggeration. Whenever I would come back from vacation in the summer, I had so much mail waiting for me that the mail man probably thought I was some child celebrity. I wish I had the motivation to write letters still, but as it is, I’ve promised my friend Stacy a letter for the last 6 months and still haven’t written it because I lost her letter and even though I could just ask her for her address on Facebook, I’m using that as my flimsy excuse. Thank you for following my thoughts on that one.
    • Meanwhile, my mom wasn’t even “fat.” So now you know where I get my body dysmorphic tendencies.
  • UGH, NEMESIS JUST CAME TO THE DOOR AND HENRY LET CHOOCH RUN OFF WITH HIM, I AM SO ANGRY.
  • OK, if I don’t end this now, I’ll just be sitting at the computer all day because you know how I can go ON AND ON AND ON AND…

  3 Responses to “Saturday Stream of Consciousness”

  1. Oh man…We Are The World. That brings me back. Every time I hear that song I’m like “There’s Simon from Duran Duran, there’s Boy George, there’s George Michael”. I still get giddy when I hear the song or see the video. And I just want to say that although I rarely comment I read every one of your posts and laugh out loud at least once for each one. I am lurking like nobody’s business. :P

  2. Your goddam sidebar has a clown picture in it right now and I can’t think straight.

    Um… what was I going to say…

    OH YEAH. Never Take It Off. Some pretty rad jewelry, not bad priced, and for a good cause. That’s the ultimate jewelry. I will have to get a few pieces!

  3. My favorite parts:

    “but my whole point is that Henry reached over and took a piece of my pizza and then asked, “Is that a beet?””

    one was WE ARE THE WORLD!

    and I am actually sick to my stomach with anticipation, you have no idea.”

    Oh, I DO have an idea! :D Can you imagine all the barfing we would do if we ever saw The Cure together?!

    We must talk about our pen palling sometime.

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