I had to be at back at work this morning less than 12 hours after I LEFT that place last night. But I was up and ready to go. G, notsomuch. Because of her pokiness I was running about A THOUSAND MINUTES LATE. "Oh no I forgot (one of 27 random things she "needs" to get thru a day with me at the mall even tho she will just end up playing on my phone the whole time anyway)!!!"
"GILLIAN!!" I screeched angrily. "GET IN THE CAR!! I'll go get (random thing)."
As she went out the door, I dashed back inside, locating and grabbing said random-yet-uberimportant-item all in less than 30 seconds (yay one story floor plan!). I raced to the car, slammed the door and gunned it out of the driveway. I was sooo frazzled and sooo late. I was all the way to the stop sign at the end of our busy street when I thought, "Wow. G must know how mad I am. She's being so quiet. I don't even hear any vids or games playing on her ipod!"
Wait.
"She's so quiet. Is she even back there?!" I joked to myself silently. Looking in the rearview mirror, I started to tell G my little joke. But I didnt see her reflection. She must have been laying in the seat. I looked back.
"HOLY (string of incoherent swearing) I LEFT HER!!!! OH MY GOD I LEFT MY BABYYYYY!!!"
Because my busy street spills out into an even busier street, I couldn't turn around right away. I had to DRIVER FURTHER AWAY FROM MY BABY. Whom I had left. All alone.
I whipped around the first chance I got and SPED back home. I found her standing still and sobbing on the driveway. Desolate and abandoned.
I was trying not to laugh. I KNOW I KNOW. But It really was kinda funny.
My 10 year old daughter just stood there, crying, waiting for me to scoop her up, hug and comfort her.
NOPE. I just sat in the car as she got herself together enough to climb in to the backseat. "YOU LEFT ME!!!!" She sobbed.
"Yes I did. And what lesson did you learn form this? " SILENCE (except for crying) "Did you learn to ALWAYS get in the car when I ask you to?"
"YEESSSS!!!"
"Well, I am sorry I left you and I am sorry you were scared. But sometimes mommies have to teach their kids tough lessons."
"I know. But I'm going to be mad at you all day." I told her that was okay. I DIDN'T tell her that I was pretty mad at myself too. Bc I DID NOT leave her on purpose to teach her a lesson. I actually just... well.. LEFT her. On accident.
Gilly has told EVERYONE that I left her behind today. She told my boss, my mom. Our Elf on the Shelf, the waitress at dinner and she cant WAIT to tell BRIAN (he knows, I texted him) when he gets home!!
BUT! G does always finish the story with "But I learned MY lesson! Always listen to Momma!"
And isn't that REALLY the most important thing, here?! ISNT IT?!
Work, home, kids, life, it's all a breeze!!!
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Aunt Holly's House By Gilly
This was a practice writing of Gillian's for standardized testing that all 3rd graders have to take in WV.
I thought it was hilarious and sweet and wanted to share!
Favorite Place in Town
"I really like going to my aunt Holly's house.
They even have a Wii U! I love the new basment they're making. It's supposed to be my great-great- great-great-great gramma, Mimi's new room, I like playing Mario games, and lucky me, they have Mario Kart Wii and Super Mario Bros U. The storage room became a room with books and a board with magnetic letters that came with it. They also have my favorite kind of GaterAid.
My aunt is rich because she bought tons of apps on her iPhone, but she had to delete one. She has tons of lego sets, too.
Sometimes I smell delicious lunch or dinner. And I see my 2-year-old cousin Harry. And the blanket tht's on Harry's bed feels so good, I coulod sleep for hours on that thing!
That's why I love going to Holly's house. "
She got a pretty decent score of 4/6 points on this one. Just needed to elaborate more.
Not bad for a practice run! And Holly's house truly IS Gilly's FAVE place in town!
I thought it was hilarious and sweet and wanted to share!
Favorite Place in Town
"I really like going to my aunt Holly's house.
They even have a Wii U! I love the new basment they're making. It's supposed to be my great-great- great-great-great gramma, Mimi's new room, I like playing Mario games, and lucky me, they have Mario Kart Wii and Super Mario Bros U. The storage room became a room with books and a board with magnetic letters that came with it. They also have my favorite kind of GaterAid.
My aunt is rich because she bought tons of apps on her iPhone, but she had to delete one. She has tons of lego sets, too.
Sometimes I smell delicious lunch or dinner. And I see my 2-year-old cousin Harry. And the blanket tht's on Harry's bed feels so good, I coulod sleep for hours on that thing!
That's why I love going to Holly's house. "
She got a pretty decent score of 4/6 points on this one. Just needed to elaborate more.
Not bad for a practice run! And Holly's house truly IS Gilly's FAVE place in town!
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Arm Pit Candy
As Brian leaned in to kiss me hello after a long day of work, I caught a whiff of SOMEthing just AWFUL! A sickeningly sweet, thick odor surrounded me in a green cloud of nastiness. "Oh my GOD what IS that?!" I said in my 'I'm gonna die if that smell enters my nostrils and attaches itself to my brain' voice (aka 'stuffed up nose' voice).
"What? I don't smell anything."
I shrugged and stirred the spaghetti I was preparing for dinner. I didn't smell the offending odor again until he hugged me and thanked me for a yummy dinner during our post-meal clean up. ( I know, RIGHT?! He's too good for words!) To Brian's sweet, and satisfied thanks I responded, "UGH GET AWAY FROM ME!!" I covered my mouth and nose with my hands. "YOU SMELL LIKE LIKE- LIKE A CAN OF RED BULL THATS GONE SKUNKY!! GOOD LOORRRD WHAT IS THAT?!
He chuckled like a rotten kid and said he didn't smell anything.
"Well, I didn't either," I said from behind by garlic and tomato scented hands "until you just hugged me. OH! And when you first got home. UGH!! WHY DO YOU SMELL LIKE OLD LADY CANDY?! Oh GOD, YOU'RE DISGUUUSTING!!'
Before y'all lay into me about being overly dramatic (who? ME!? NEVAH!!!) keep in mind that I am super-sensitve to smells and just about ANY and EVERYthing can ignite a migraine and lay me out for two or three days. So my outrageous reaction to Brian's odd and offending scent of choice is MORE than warranted.
Brian just shrugged and said that what I might be smelling might be his NEW deodorant.
"WHAT?! WHAT 'NEW' DEODORANT?!? I DIDN'T APPROVE ANY 'NEW' DEODORANT! YOU KNOW ALL HOUSEHOLD AND BODY SCENTS HAVE TO GO THROUGH ME FIRST!" Again, before you label me a crazy, controlling bitch please re-read the above paragraph re: smells and headaches. I'll wait...
Done? Great. Let's move on.
"How about if I change my shirt?" Brian offered sweetly.
I agreed that that MIGHT help.
After the undershirt chagne, I didn't smell that god-awful odor anymore, but he was on the couch and I was across our small tv room lounging on the recliner so I wasn't close enough, either. UNTIL BEDTIME. As I went to snuggle him I found myself embattled in an unrelenting onslaught attack upon my olfactory senses.
"Brian!!" I flailed and thrashed my way out from under the covers and out of bed. Once again I covered my nose and mouth. "GO WASH YOUR STINKY PITS!!'
This grown up 40 year old man I call 'mine all mine' once again giggled like an 8 year old boy who had farted but blamed it on his lil sister. "I DID wash em!" he protested through his rotten giggles.
"No way!! You washed those stinky pits with SOAP?!"
"Well, I mean... I RINSED em. With water."
'WATER?!" I cried, outraged. "Is that deodorant also an antipersperant?!" I demanded.
"Uhhhhhhhh. yeah?"
"THEN IT IS WATERPROOF, BRIIII-YUUUNNNNN-NUH!!!"
HE argued that nuh-uhh it was NOT waterproof.
"Oh no? Well answer me THIS; what IS sweat? ? Is it not water that comes out of your body?! AND IS THAT STINKY, SMELLY RANCID HALLOWEEN CANDY SCENTED STUFF THAT IS ABSOULTELY WAFTING OUT FROM UNDER YOUR ARMS STILL ON SAID BODY??!! Yes, Brian. Yes. It. Is. And do you know why?! "Because IT IS WATERPROOF!"
"FINE!" He relented. "I'll go wash it off!! For real!"
I followed him AND supervised. He was laughing at my Drema Death Stare and the fact that I was sitting on a toliet lid watching him wash his arm pits at 11:30 at night. "Well! We wouldn't BE in this awkward sitch if you hadn't made poor and unauthorized decisions about the scent of your personal hygiene products now would we?"
When he was done, he asked me to sniff his armpits. "Ummm noooo. I will trust that they are Spring Clean freshy- fresh now and that you no longer smell like church candy found in the bottom of some dead old lady's purse. Let's go to bed now."
And I dreamed a delightful dream of meadows and rainbows with no arm pit candy in sight- or smell!
"What? I don't smell anything."
I shrugged and stirred the spaghetti I was preparing for dinner. I didn't smell the offending odor again until he hugged me and thanked me for a yummy dinner during our post-meal clean up. ( I know, RIGHT?! He's too good for words!) To Brian's sweet, and satisfied thanks I responded, "UGH GET AWAY FROM ME!!" I covered my mouth and nose with my hands. "YOU SMELL LIKE LIKE- LIKE A CAN OF RED BULL THATS GONE SKUNKY!! GOOD LOORRRD WHAT IS THAT?!
He chuckled like a rotten kid and said he didn't smell anything.
"Well, I didn't either," I said from behind by garlic and tomato scented hands "until you just hugged me. OH! And when you first got home. UGH!! WHY DO YOU SMELL LIKE OLD LADY CANDY?! Oh GOD, YOU'RE DISGUUUSTING!!'
Before y'all lay into me about being overly dramatic (who? ME!? NEVAH!!!) keep in mind that I am super-sensitve to smells and just about ANY and EVERYthing can ignite a migraine and lay me out for two or three days. So my outrageous reaction to Brian's odd and offending scent of choice is MORE than warranted.
Brian just shrugged and said that what I might be smelling might be his NEW deodorant.
"WHAT?! WHAT 'NEW' DEODORANT?!? I DIDN'T APPROVE ANY 'NEW' DEODORANT! YOU KNOW ALL HOUSEHOLD AND BODY SCENTS HAVE TO GO THROUGH ME FIRST!" Again, before you label me a crazy, controlling bitch please re-read the above paragraph re: smells and headaches. I'll wait...
Done? Great. Let's move on.
"How about if I change my shirt?" Brian offered sweetly.
I agreed that that MIGHT help.
After the undershirt chagne, I didn't smell that god-awful odor anymore, but he was on the couch and I was across our small tv room lounging on the recliner so I wasn't close enough, either. UNTIL BEDTIME. As I went to snuggle him I found myself embattled in an unrelenting onslaught attack upon my olfactory senses.
"Brian!!" I flailed and thrashed my way out from under the covers and out of bed. Once again I covered my nose and mouth. "GO WASH YOUR STINKY PITS!!'
This grown up 40 year old man I call 'mine all mine' once again giggled like an 8 year old boy who had farted but blamed it on his lil sister. "I DID wash em!" he protested through his rotten giggles.
"No way!! You washed those stinky pits with SOAP?!"
"Well, I mean... I RINSED em. With water."
'WATER?!" I cried, outraged. "Is that deodorant also an antipersperant?!" I demanded.
"Uhhhhhhhh. yeah?"
"THEN IT IS WATERPROOF, BRIIII-YUUUNNNNN-NUH!!!"
HE argued that nuh-uhh it was NOT waterproof.
"Oh no? Well answer me THIS; what IS sweat? ? Is it not water that comes out of your body?! AND IS THAT STINKY, SMELLY RANCID HALLOWEEN CANDY SCENTED STUFF THAT IS ABSOULTELY WAFTING OUT FROM UNDER YOUR ARMS STILL ON SAID BODY??!! Yes, Brian. Yes. It. Is. And do you know why?! "Because IT IS WATERPROOF!"
"FINE!" He relented. "I'll go wash it off!! For real!"
I followed him AND supervised. He was laughing at my Drema Death Stare and the fact that I was sitting on a toliet lid watching him wash his arm pits at 11:30 at night. "Well! We wouldn't BE in this awkward sitch if you hadn't made poor and unauthorized decisions about the scent of your personal hygiene products now would we?"
When he was done, he asked me to sniff his armpits. "Ummm noooo. I will trust that they are Spring Clean freshy- fresh now and that you no longer smell like church candy found in the bottom of some dead old lady's purse. Let's go to bed now."
And I dreamed a delightful dream of meadows and rainbows with no arm pit candy in sight- or smell!
Sunday, December 2, 2012
A Migraine, Mr. Muzak, and Special Santa
Being functional while having a migraine is probably not unlike what a new born vampire must feel. Senses are heightened. Insticts are more keenly felt and the need for survival is overwhelming, yet the want of sweet, sweet death isn't far away. Emotions are charged as well. Something small that may only have been merely bothersome under normal human circumstaces is now an event worth sobbing over. A slightly humorous event causes a fit of hysterical laughter,. Someone pisses you off and you very vividly imagine ripping their annoying-as-hell, ugly little head off and violently chewing it up like a piece of bubble gum from a quarter candy machine.
For the past four days -and counting- I have had the misfortune of experincing such a migraine headache while trying to help coordinate two of the major events of the season at the mall, where I am employed with the Marketing Department: The Family Holiday Fashion Show, and our Special Santa event for people with special needs.
On Friday I was miserable but I let Jen, my coworker, take the reigns of the planning process. She usually does anyway, and she always does a great job.
But then...SATURDAY happened. And all unholy hell broke loose, literally AND figuratively, in my head. Arriving "promptly" @ 8;45, a mere 15 minutes late, I clocked in and noticed that I had more trouble than usual lining up my time card. BECAUSE I COULDN'T SEE IT. I was expereincng a werid visual distortion. A "sun spot" as I call it, had appered before my eyes, as if I had looked into a light or at the sun too long. Which I had not. Shruggin it of, I gathered up my promotional cart of Sensory Friendly goodies (squishy balls, splat eggs, bowls of dried beans and noodles and SO MUCH MORE!) and held on for dear life as I dragged the thing to my station behind Santas House. On the way, I crashed into the walls and doorways , becuase I was so dizzy and couldn't see, but dammit I made it there. I was quietly setting up my Sesnory Friendly Waiting Room for Special Santa when all of a sudden, the Muzak BLASTED over the loud speakers. I dropped my bowl of dried beans. The clattering of the beans along with the heinous Muzak was absolute thunder ripping through my head. I covered my ears and tried to breathe, thinkin it was only THAT loud to me. Then one of my helpers gingerly tapped my shoulder. I unsquinted one eye to see that she was also covering her ears. "Isn't that sposed to be OFF?" she yelled over the din of "White Christmas"reverberating through my soul. I just STARED at her and realized she could hear the noise, too. I nodded. The music in the mall was to be turned off duirng Special Santa. I called Margi, my boss so she called the Muzak guy and after thorughly chewing him out, she called me back assuring me the offending sound would be silenced for the remainder of the morning.
WRONG. A few mintues later, the music overhead swelleld again. I contacted Margi, she in turn, contacted the Muzak guy. This happened three more times, each event tearing thru my ears and soul like a hellish banshee screaming her demonic wail of terror. The last time, when we were assaulted with Barbara Streisnad's GOD AWFUL jazz version of "Jingle Bells" I took matters into my OWN very shaky and sick hands. I texted Margi, "Music on. I'm hunting down Mr. Muzak now. I'm on zofran, pain killers, and ibuprofin. The police mught just have to taze me to pull me off this guy." I sprinted (aka walked very quickly and with purpose. Momma don't run) to the Muzak closet and upon finding the sound board abandoned, I summoned up all of my strength and womanly powers ala She-Ra and PUNCHED!! all off the ON switches to "OFF"!! I then wrote a very seriel killer -esque note to the Muzak guy:
LEAVE THE MUSIC OFF!!!!!
Until 11:00.
Which i taped to the Muzak closet door before slamming it shut. I also accosted poor Mr. Muzak when I ran into him in the hallway. "HEY! HEY YOU!!! LEAVE THE MUSIC OFF!"
"It IS off, ma'am." he said skittishly.
"I KNOW IT IS BECASUE I TURNED IT OFF!!" I roared as I sped past him back to the Sensory Friendly Waiting Room at Santa's house.
Other than that Muzak blip, Special Santa went remarkably well. I got a high five AND a fist pump from a cute lil boy with Down's Syndrome. I also got to play in some beans with another cute baby boy with Down's who was sporting a MOHAWK! Shut up, that was the CUTEST thing I have ever seen in all of my days. . I think. It'ss hard to tell when there is a swirling, pulsating wide blue dot in the middle of your field of vision.
Right after Santa was over I had to switch into Fashion Mode and assist a young model in exchanging her clothes, an HOUR before the show was to start. The store had opted to put this very young teen in a "biker mom" ensemble complete with studded, spiked black heels, and a leather jacket which resembeled 18 year old Sandy's bad girl jacket in the finale of "Grease". Ummmmm NOOOO. *I* disapproved IMMEDIATELY. Upon hearing my words of disdain and disapproval, the skinny and surly store manager's head spun around, and she got the crazy swirly red eyes of insanity I'm not kidding. that happened for real. Pretty sure...
On auto-pilot by this point, I was the picture of professionalism, tact and grace as all the head bobbing attitude and vile words of condemnation and frustration spewed my way from the ridiculously serious store manager. Eventually, after I turned down jeans ripped up to THERE and Hatler top after BAND-DOOO top (It's french, BITCH and it's pronounced, "Band-O") the inappropriate outfit was exchanged for a pretty, age appropraite one, with FLAT shoes and lovely winter white overcoat. FINALLY, I fled that store in hopes of sitting down and chugging some much needed caffiene (caffiene helps migraines but I also can't SLEEP when I have a migraine so I REALLY needed that coffee and sugar rush) but nope. Another model had issues with her clothes (yes they try them on days before, but these are GIRLS we are talking about so there is ALWAYS drama!) so I was off to yet another store. This particular store, known for their all-american style and silly commercials with 'live' mannequins was MUCH easier to work with and very undestanding that certain things happen last minute and were VERY accomodating.
So with THAT taken care of, I was off in search of coffee. Till I got stopped AGAIN. No coffee for me, time to start the show. I have very little recollection of the actual show, to tell you the truth. I know it went very well though!!!
By the time I got home, I felt like I had been run over by a truck(AGAIN!!) , tossed into the air and after landing on a guard rail, I then fell backward over a cliff and bounced all the way down before plunging into a body-smashing, violent river of rapids and after figithing my way OUT of the murky, swirling water, a giant hawk grabbed me in her cold, death-grip-of-death (yeah thats right) of her talons, her giant black iron claws cutting into my tender flesh, only to drop me hard on the ground because I was tooo squirmy and not worth the effort of hauling me to her nest, awaitng her dino sized babies to hatch out of their enomous eggs and eat me. THAT is HOW AWFUL I felt fter leaving the mall yesterday. Not one lil bit of exaggeration. Nope. Not one bit.
I am feeling better today, btw. Less "new vampire" and more like the "fat, old Summer " I'm getting used to feeling like. The migraine is almost gone and I am spending the day with my baby girl for some much needed rest and relaxation. Also, my daughter Gillian is sick today. (GILLIAN) Hope I feel better! (SUMMER) I hope so too, baby!
For the past four days -and counting- I have had the misfortune of experincing such a migraine headache while trying to help coordinate two of the major events of the season at the mall, where I am employed with the Marketing Department: The Family Holiday Fashion Show, and our Special Santa event for people with special needs.
On Friday I was miserable but I let Jen, my coworker, take the reigns of the planning process. She usually does anyway, and she always does a great job.
But then...SATURDAY happened. And all unholy hell broke loose, literally AND figuratively, in my head. Arriving "promptly" @ 8;45, a mere 15 minutes late, I clocked in and noticed that I had more trouble than usual lining up my time card. BECAUSE I COULDN'T SEE IT. I was expereincng a werid visual distortion. A "sun spot" as I call it, had appered before my eyes, as if I had looked into a light or at the sun too long. Which I had not. Shruggin it of, I gathered up my promotional cart of Sensory Friendly goodies (squishy balls, splat eggs, bowls of dried beans and noodles and SO MUCH MORE!) and held on for dear life as I dragged the thing to my station behind Santas House. On the way, I crashed into the walls and doorways , becuase I was so dizzy and couldn't see, but dammit I made it there. I was quietly setting up my Sesnory Friendly Waiting Room for Special Santa when all of a sudden, the Muzak BLASTED over the loud speakers. I dropped my bowl of dried beans. The clattering of the beans along with the heinous Muzak was absolute thunder ripping through my head. I covered my ears and tried to breathe, thinkin it was only THAT loud to me. Then one of my helpers gingerly tapped my shoulder. I unsquinted one eye to see that she was also covering her ears. "Isn't that sposed to be OFF?" she yelled over the din of "White Christmas"reverberating through my soul. I just STARED at her and realized she could hear the noise, too. I nodded. The music in the mall was to be turned off duirng Special Santa. I called Margi, my boss so she called the Muzak guy and after thorughly chewing him out, she called me back assuring me the offending sound would be silenced for the remainder of the morning.
WRONG. A few mintues later, the music overhead swelleld again. I contacted Margi, she in turn, contacted the Muzak guy. This happened three more times, each event tearing thru my ears and soul like a hellish banshee screaming her demonic wail of terror. The last time, when we were assaulted with Barbara Streisnad's GOD AWFUL jazz version of "Jingle Bells" I took matters into my OWN very shaky and sick hands. I texted Margi, "Music on. I'm hunting down Mr. Muzak now. I'm on zofran, pain killers, and ibuprofin. The police mught just have to taze me to pull me off this guy." I sprinted (aka walked very quickly and with purpose. Momma don't run) to the Muzak closet and upon finding the sound board abandoned, I summoned up all of my strength and womanly powers ala She-Ra and PUNCHED!! all off the ON switches to "OFF"!! I then wrote a very seriel killer -esque note to the Muzak guy:
LEAVE THE MUSIC OFF!!!!!
Until 11:00.
Which i taped to the Muzak closet door before slamming it shut. I also accosted poor Mr. Muzak when I ran into him in the hallway. "HEY! HEY YOU!!! LEAVE THE MUSIC OFF!"
"It IS off, ma'am." he said skittishly.
"I KNOW IT IS BECASUE I TURNED IT OFF!!" I roared as I sped past him back to the Sensory Friendly Waiting Room at Santa's house.
Other than that Muzak blip, Special Santa went remarkably well. I got a high five AND a fist pump from a cute lil boy with Down's Syndrome. I also got to play in some beans with another cute baby boy with Down's who was sporting a MOHAWK! Shut up, that was the CUTEST thing I have ever seen in all of my days. . I think. It'ss hard to tell when there is a swirling, pulsating wide blue dot in the middle of your field of vision.
Right after Santa was over I had to switch into Fashion Mode and assist a young model in exchanging her clothes, an HOUR before the show was to start. The store had opted to put this very young teen in a "biker mom" ensemble complete with studded, spiked black heels, and a leather jacket which resembeled 18 year old Sandy's bad girl jacket in the finale of "Grease". Ummmmm NOOOO. *I* disapproved IMMEDIATELY. Upon hearing my words of disdain and disapproval, the skinny and surly store manager's head spun around, and she got the crazy swirly red eyes of insanity I'm not kidding. that happened for real. Pretty sure...
On auto-pilot by this point, I was the picture of professionalism, tact and grace as all the head bobbing attitude and vile words of condemnation and frustration spewed my way from the ridiculously serious store manager. Eventually, after I turned down jeans ripped up to THERE and Hatler top after BAND-DOOO top (It's french, BITCH and it's pronounced, "Band-O") the inappropriate outfit was exchanged for a pretty, age appropraite one, with FLAT shoes and lovely winter white overcoat. FINALLY, I fled that store in hopes of sitting down and chugging some much needed caffiene (caffiene helps migraines but I also can't SLEEP when I have a migraine so I REALLY needed that coffee and sugar rush) but nope. Another model had issues with her clothes (yes they try them on days before, but these are GIRLS we are talking about so there is ALWAYS drama!) so I was off to yet another store. This particular store, known for their all-american style and silly commercials with 'live' mannequins was MUCH easier to work with and very undestanding that certain things happen last minute and were VERY accomodating.
So with THAT taken care of, I was off in search of coffee. Till I got stopped AGAIN. No coffee for me, time to start the show. I have very little recollection of the actual show, to tell you the truth. I know it went very well though!!!
By the time I got home, I felt like I had been run over by a truck(AGAIN!!) , tossed into the air and after landing on a guard rail, I then fell backward over a cliff and bounced all the way down before plunging into a body-smashing, violent river of rapids and after figithing my way OUT of the murky, swirling water, a giant hawk grabbed me in her cold, death-grip-of-death (yeah thats right) of her talons, her giant black iron claws cutting into my tender flesh, only to drop me hard on the ground because I was tooo squirmy and not worth the effort of hauling me to her nest, awaitng her dino sized babies to hatch out of their enomous eggs and eat me. THAT is HOW AWFUL I felt fter leaving the mall yesterday. Not one lil bit of exaggeration. Nope. Not one bit.
I am feeling better today, btw. Less "new vampire" and more like the "fat, old Summer " I'm getting used to feeling like. The migraine is almost gone and I am spending the day with my baby girl for some much needed rest and relaxation. Also, my daughter Gillian is sick today. (GILLIAN) Hope I feel better! (SUMMER) I hope so too, baby!
Monday, August 20, 2012
Hermie the Skunk Hunter
My mom and dad have lived in the same house, in the same neighborhood for all but 2 of my 35 years of life. And many of the inhabitants of their lil neighborhood's tucked-away block have been there quite a while as well. So when anyone from our family sees a stranger 'round the old homestead, our interests are piqued.
Today, Holly, Baby Harry, Gilly and I met someone new as we were outside taking a mini walk up and down Elm St.
"There a skunk around here?" we heard from behind.
Holly and the baby (ummm I feel compelled to mention that "Baby" Harry is a GIANT 2 year old!) and I spun around to face the inquring voice. Gillian was a lil bit ahead of us and came running back.
To our surpise, a sprightlly elderly gentleman, perched upon an older-model bicycle was the source of the question. He was dressed in a smart white and blue-striped button down dress shirt and creased khakis. Well-worn loafers ensconsed his feet, one perched on a bike pedal, the other balancing on the asphalt road. To me, he looked like a modern day, real-life version of Hermie the rogue elf from the Rankin and Bass classic (AND TERRIFYING)claymation Chrsitmas special, Rudolf the Rednosed Reindeer.
"Yeah, I can SMELL him!" Gillian piped up, delighted. She ADORES skunks. She even loves the nose-hair-singeing stench of skunk. Weirdo.
"Weel, you wanna trap 'im?!"asked Real-life Hermie, all excited-like.
Holly and I LOOKed at each other and had a silent conversation:
"TRAP a Skunk?! I can barely change his diaper!" Holly said in my head, eyeballing her Newfoundland Hound- sized toddler.
"I know, right? Who IS this guy?!"
"Do we look like wild mountain women?!" We both appraised our apparel. Me in a workaday pair of black capirs and tasteful black and white top, my sis in a fashionable orange tank and classy jeans.
"NO!" we silently sang out.
"Ummmmm...errr..." I stammered politely at the bike-bound stranger. "Well," he said "lemme know!" as he pedalled away he called back to us, "There's lotsa critters around here! We caught some racoons over there by the river! Got us a skunk down by *unitelligible* so just ...lemme know!"
Another silent communication:
Me, "What the HELL?!'
Sis, "I KNOW! Who ASKS strangers, PRETTY strangers (my sis is nothing if not modest) to WRESTLE WILD LIFE?! "
"You'll set him free, right?! If you trap the skunk?!" I called aloud to Real Life Hermie's quickly disappearing back.
"Yeah! Ok! Sure!"
"Like I am sure you set the racoons free!?" I screeched desperately in his direction. He held up a silent wave in response, pacifying me.
I mean , what did I expect? Claymation Hermie PULLED the TEETH of the ABOMINAL SNOWMAN in order to render him harmless.
Skunk Rasslin'!! On a WEEKday?! No thanks! Clearly I have more important things to do. Like post a new blog. :)
Today, Holly, Baby Harry, Gilly and I met someone new as we were outside taking a mini walk up and down Elm St.
"There a skunk around here?" we heard from behind.
Holly and the baby (ummm I feel compelled to mention that "Baby" Harry is a GIANT 2 year old!) and I spun around to face the inquring voice. Gillian was a lil bit ahead of us and came running back.
To our surpise, a sprightlly elderly gentleman, perched upon an older-model bicycle was the source of the question. He was dressed in a smart white and blue-striped button down dress shirt and creased khakis. Well-worn loafers ensconsed his feet, one perched on a bike pedal, the other balancing on the asphalt road. To me, he looked like a modern day, real-life version of Hermie the rogue elf from the Rankin and Bass classic (AND TERRIFYING)claymation Chrsitmas special, Rudolf the Rednosed Reindeer.
"Yeah, I can SMELL him!" Gillian piped up, delighted. She ADORES skunks. She even loves the nose-hair-singeing stench of skunk. Weirdo.
"Weel, you wanna trap 'im?!"asked Real-life Hermie, all excited-like.
Holly and I LOOKed at each other and had a silent conversation:
"TRAP a Skunk?! I can barely change his diaper!" Holly said in my head, eyeballing her Newfoundland Hound- sized toddler.
"I know, right? Who IS this guy?!"
"Do we look like wild mountain women?!" We both appraised our apparel. Me in a workaday pair of black capirs and tasteful black and white top, my sis in a fashionable orange tank and classy jeans.
"NO!" we silently sang out.
"Ummmmm...errr..." I stammered politely at the bike-bound stranger. "Well," he said "lemme know!" as he pedalled away he called back to us, "There's lotsa critters around here! We caught some racoons over there by the river! Got us a skunk down by *unitelligible* so just ...lemme know!"
Another silent communication:
Me, "What the HELL?!'
Sis, "I KNOW! Who ASKS strangers, PRETTY strangers (my sis is nothing if not modest) to WRESTLE WILD LIFE?! "
"You'll set him free, right?! If you trap the skunk?!" I called aloud to Real Life Hermie's quickly disappearing back.
"Yeah! Ok! Sure!"
"Like I am sure you set the racoons free!?" I screeched desperately in his direction. He held up a silent wave in response, pacifying me.
I mean , what did I expect? Claymation Hermie PULLED the TEETH of the ABOMINAL SNOWMAN in order to render him harmless.
Skunk Rasslin'!! On a WEEKday?! No thanks! Clearly I have more important things to do. Like post a new blog. :)
My Little Brony
Gillian was very excited to buy a new video game with her own money. As the tall, scrawny, glasses-clad 20-something 'kid' rang up our purchase my daughter noticed a My Little Pony figurine prancing lifelessly under the register's screen. "Hey! It's Pinkie Pie!"
"That's mine, actually." said the previously mentioned ADULT MALE Toys R Us employee. "And do you know who THIS is?" He then pointed to a smallish (think Happy Meal Toy) bright pink and purple pony glittering garishly from a long, thick silver chain around his neck. "Ummmm yeahhh.. uhhhh she LOOKS FAMILiarrr.." Gillian's brow furrowed in concentration. "It's Purple-Nurple, of course!" Ok, her name wasnt Purple Nurple but I dont know WHAT he said! AND THEN, he pointed to a THIRD PONY in the form of a TIE PIN tacked to his employee badge lariat. "And THIS," he said proudly, "is Trixie. I am a HUGE Trixie fan." LAter he showed us his MLP-clad iPhone cover, as well as the screen saver on his phone, which was, OF COURSE, an image of Trixie. He went on to describe the ENTIRE culture of the MLP phenomenon. He boasted "We're the new Trekkies!" He even informed me that Q from Star Trek:The Next Generation was a GUEST voice and basically played Q in pony form.
"So how did you get in to all of this?" WHAT THE CRAP?! WHY DID YOU JUST ASK THAT YOU STUPID, STUPID NOSY WOMAN!!! I yelled at myself from the safety of my head as I smiled a seemilngly engaging, but really totally devoid of joy pageant smile his way. Smiling. Another big mistake. THat just made him tell me about very specific episodes. "And one time somepony-"
"Did you just say 'somepony?' "
"Yeah, one time somepony" did something really cute and funny and the fanbase went wild which led to more cute and funny stuff.
"My Little Pony...blah..blah..blah..artwork. It's magical...good, strong life lessons.... and my fellow Bronies, I'm a Brony, that's guys who like the show we all...." OH I had to bite my tounge HARD to NOT make a snide comment about THAT one!! BROnies? I looked around for a Candid Camera. This guy could NOT be for REAL, COULD he?!
But he was real. Soooooo verrryyy real.
And then, y'all... AND THEEEEEE-UUUUNNNNNNN he started talking-waitforit-about-waaaiiitforit- MY LITTLE PONY -WAIIIIIITFOOORRIIIITTTTT- CONVENTIONS.
WHAT. THE.
This very tall, skinny, grown-ass man, this "Brony" if you will, and you will, who honestly and purely LOVES a cartoon originally intended for little girls, has been to no less than 5 MLP conventions. For him, it's all about collecting, and the artwork of MLP and connecting with other ADULTS worldwide who love the show. He even told me what websites were kid-friendly and which were for the adult fan-base (uh yeah, I'm not letting G on ANY of these websites, btw). This Brony once went to a convention where 7000!!! people showed up! And it was supposed to be a SMALL convention! He went on to tell me which voice actresses he met and which were his fave eps.
I know what you are thinking. This guy is a perv, a pedophile interested in hurting little girls. But I really don't think so. Number one, he paid little attention to my 9 year old girl as she was nearby playing a sample video game. The only time he even really engaged her in the conversation was when she piped up at his mentioning "Derpy" a horsey whose eyes are off kilter (one up, one down). Apparently Derpy was named by the fanbase and is HUGEly popular even tho she rarely has a line, (also, her off-eyes were originally an animation glitch but the fans loved her that way so she stayed all.. derpy, I guess!) Number two, his face just LIT UP when he was talking about the culture, the show, the characters. Not unlike when Gilly talks about Harry Potter.
Sometimes a Brony is just a Brony, man. It's as simple as that.
"That's mine, actually." said the previously mentioned ADULT MALE Toys R Us employee. "And do you know who THIS is?" He then pointed to a smallish (think Happy Meal Toy) bright pink and purple pony glittering garishly from a long, thick silver chain around his neck. "Ummmm yeahhh.. uhhhh she LOOKS FAMILiarrr.." Gillian's brow furrowed in concentration. "It's Purple-Nurple, of course!" Ok, her name wasnt Purple Nurple but I dont know WHAT he said! AND THEN, he pointed to a THIRD PONY in the form of a TIE PIN tacked to his employee badge lariat. "And THIS," he said proudly, "is Trixie. I am a HUGE Trixie fan." LAter he showed us his MLP-clad iPhone cover, as well as the screen saver on his phone, which was, OF COURSE, an image of Trixie. He went on to describe the ENTIRE culture of the MLP phenomenon. He boasted "We're the new Trekkies!" He even informed me that Q from Star Trek:The Next Generation was a GUEST voice and basically played Q in pony form.
"So how did you get in to all of this?" WHAT THE CRAP?! WHY DID YOU JUST ASK THAT YOU STUPID, STUPID NOSY WOMAN!!! I yelled at myself from the safety of my head as I smiled a seemilngly engaging, but really totally devoid of joy pageant smile his way. Smiling. Another big mistake. THat just made him tell me about very specific episodes. "And one time somepony-"
"Did you just say 'somepony?' "
"Yeah, one time somepony" did something really cute and funny and the fanbase went wild which led to more cute and funny stuff.
"My Little Pony...blah..blah..blah..artwork. It's magical...good, strong life lessons.... and my fellow Bronies, I'm a Brony, that's guys who like the show we all...." OH I had to bite my tounge HARD to NOT make a snide comment about THAT one!! BROnies? I looked around for a Candid Camera. This guy could NOT be for REAL, COULD he?!
But he was real. Soooooo verrryyy real.
And then, y'all... AND THEEEEEE-UUUUNNNNNNN he started talking-waitforit-about-waaaiiitforit- MY LITTLE PONY -WAIIIIIITFOOORRIIIITTTTT- CONVENTIONS.
WHAT. THE.
This very tall, skinny, grown-ass man, this "Brony" if you will, and you will, who honestly and purely LOVES a cartoon originally intended for little girls, has been to no less than 5 MLP conventions. For him, it's all about collecting, and the artwork of MLP and connecting with other ADULTS worldwide who love the show. He even told me what websites were kid-friendly and which were for the adult fan-base (uh yeah, I'm not letting G on ANY of these websites, btw). This Brony once went to a convention where 7000!!! people showed up! And it was supposed to be a SMALL convention! He went on to tell me which voice actresses he met and which were his fave eps.
I know what you are thinking. This guy is a perv, a pedophile interested in hurting little girls. But I really don't think so. Number one, he paid little attention to my 9 year old girl as she was nearby playing a sample video game. The only time he even really engaged her in the conversation was when she piped up at his mentioning "Derpy" a horsey whose eyes are off kilter (one up, one down). Apparently Derpy was named by the fanbase and is HUGEly popular even tho she rarely has a line, (also, her off-eyes were originally an animation glitch but the fans loved her that way so she stayed all.. derpy, I guess!) Number two, his face just LIT UP when he was talking about the culture, the show, the characters. Not unlike when Gilly talks about Harry Potter.
Sometimes a Brony is just a Brony, man. It's as simple as that.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Sweet Genius?!
I just had the pleasure experience of watching the
Food Network’s “Sweet Genius” for the first time. Just from the commercials, the
host/Genius has always reminded me of a nefarious alien creature from a
low-budget horror movie. Yet I was intrigued. And I lost the remote. So I watched
some more. And holy cow and I am sooo glad I did. When Mr. Creepy Genius introduced
the first challenge ingredient in his oddly unplacable accent, I stopped
sorting laundry and gave the TV my undivided attention. "Made to imitate mother's milk, baby
formula is a vitamin-rich source of nutrition." INFANT frickin FORMULA!!!??? I started taking notes.
The first contestant, the mother of a 10 month old, actually said these exact words: "That's
disgusting. I have a baby. I have tasted formula. It's not anything you'd wanna
drink or cook with..." But I guess
the vile concoction is fine for babies. I mean what do they know, right? Shheeeesh.
The mom decided to make devil’s food cake because she hoped the bitterness of
the strong chocolate would mask the "funky taste of the formula."
Which she voluntarily feeds to her infant son every day, several times a day.
Another young contestant who stated she had never tasted
infant formula (was she breastfed I wonder?) said it was “gross and chalky.”
She decided to make ice cream out of it and use A LOT of vanilla extract in
order to mask the infant formula.
One contender chose to “hide some of that awfulness” by
making chocolate mousse.” She also said “Baby formula smells BAAAD” prompting
her to use rosewater in her mouse to diffuse the remaining formula flavor.
My favorite moment of the show was when the alien-esque host
informed the TV audience that “Baby formula is not cow's milk. It has a totally
different composition. It's very low in lactose, high in vegetable oil."
Wait, didn't he say that formula
imitates mother's milk? Sooooo I grabbed a bottle of vegetable oil from my pantry.
Hmmmmm. According to the label, my Crisco brand PURE VEGETABLE OIL (which had soybean oil listed as the sole ingredient) is "not
a significant source of dietary fiber, sugars, vitamin A, vitamin C, calcium
and iron.” The ONLY vitamin listed is “Vitamin
E 10%.” Well, maybe on whatever planet
HE comes from that is what the baby aliens survive and thrive on. But here on
earth, I am 1000000% positive that the milk MY BODY made for MY baby didn’t
have ONE DROP of veg oil in it. EV. ER. Lactose is a sugar that the human body needs
to grow, particularly the brain. It should also be noted that the lactose in
infant formula does, in fact, come from cow’s milk and does not at all mirror
the lactose in human milk. Just FYI.
Back to the show, Mr. Creepy announced the taste testing
portion by saying “I’m a baby and I want
to be fed.”*shudder* Maybe by his vegetable oil-producing alien mother? “That’s
disgusting.”
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