Monday, November 30, 2009

In my ongoing transformation to Amish-ism, you'll recall that I am now capable of making my own cheese. The mozzarella is wonderful. The cream cheese is spectacular. The muenster, you'll recall, though, was a complete bust. So I was a bit gun shy for a while.

At the beginning of November, following the directions in a cheese book handed down from my dad, I transformed a gallon of milk into a compact round of white cheddar cheese. After a day and a half in my cheese press, it sat out for 3 days to develop a rind, and since then, it's been "aging" in the refrigerator.

Today, I decided to bust it out and sample it and guess what? It's spectacular. It tastes like cheddar cheese. Real cheddar cheese. It's a little salty, a little sharp, a little crumbly and a lot delicious.

I am awesome.

Also, everyone who lives in this house who is not appropriately awed by the fact that I made HOMEMADE CHEESE (which would be everyone but me)? Is cordially invited to kiss the whitest part of my ass cheddar.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Sometimes unemployment comes with little tiny droplets of awesome

Like locating a long lost pal you haven't talked to in FOREVER and finding out that he's also unemployed, meaning he can stay up until 2AM chatting with you about movies, cooking, politics and porn parenting techniques. (even if he mentioned that I'd always reminded him of Kennedy from Mtv - for my chastity and Republican-ness? No, because I'm kind of weird and sarcastic/smart... um... thanks?)

I haven't left the house in 4 days

is it too soon to start writing my manifesto and digging a bomb shelter?

Thursday, November 26, 2009

giving thanks

I know a lot of people are taking to Twitter, Facebook and various other social networking places to publicly announce the crap for which they are thankful today - Personally, I think it's kind of lame to be expected to take one day out the year to be thankful for what you've got - why not recognize the good shit every day... or at least on a quarterly basis - I try to have truth binges every couple months and make inappropriately emotional statements* to unsuspecting people in my life, I think it's a little more genuine than dressing up to say Grace around the dinner table.

So I present to you a list of things for which I am resolutely not thankful (in no particular order):

• the stupid springform pan that wasn't completely assembled and decided to fall apart as I was taking the perfect lemon cheesecake out of the oven, thus causing the perfect lemon cheesecake to splatter all the fuck over the door of the oven
• the fact that I couldn't find anything smaller than an 18lb turkey - it's practically a damn ostrich and is going to take all freaking day to cook
• the 90 kajillion OMG-SHOP-WITH-US-TOMORROW emails I've gotten - seriously, it's all that's been in my freaking inbox all day
• the 4 or 5 people in my life who are acting like complete fuckwits
• the stupid holidays, for which I have zero motivation and even less money
  
• the doctor who, when I complained of flu symptoms and excruciating back pain, decided to sign me up for a sleep study and increase my prozac
• the fact that I can never ever find nail clippers - seriously, I have like 400 of them, but I can never find any
• that I seem like nothing but 32 flavors of emo lately
  

*inappropriately emotional statements for me, of course, being something along the lines of "I'm glad we're friends" or "I kind of miss you" or "I like feeling like an occasional table in the weird foyer of your existence"

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

My kid may think he's the pinnacle of cool, but sometimes I'm reminded that he's still kind of a dork.

We're watching tv and there's some commercial for some socially conscious Anderson Cooper show and he says, with a look of disbelief

"That's Anderson Cooper?"

I nod, wondering how on earth he knows who the Silver Fox is.

"I follow him on Twitter"

"Really?"

"Yeah, didn't he used to be a rock star?"

"Um... no..."

"Yeah, he used to be a rock star."

"Um... no. He's a news guy, always has been."

"But... but... he was in Wayne's World, they went to his concert."

"Dude, that was Alice Cooper."

"Oh. I was wondering why he talked about politics all the time on his Twitter."







see also the Super Bowl Halftime Show

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Don't tell anyone but I'm harboring a serious girl crush on Lady Gaga.

I mean, this summer, she was all kinds of overexposed and freaky to the infinite power, I rolled my eyes every time she came on the radio, but I started listening to her recently and...

Anyone who can drop lyrical pearls like:

"I'm a hard girl, loving me's like straightening curls"

and

"Let's have some fun, this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick"

and

"Could we fix you if you broke, and is your punchline just a joke"

OMG, lurve.

Also, barely related but, this video will never ever ever not be funny

Left the house for the first time in 3 days

relieved to report that, other than a few more Christmas holiday decorations festooning* the streets and stores of my fair city, not much has changed.

That is all.



*is that even a word? Festooning? It sounds like something pirates do - "Arrr, avast ye landlubbin' festooners"...



note to self: do not blog after taking copious amounts of cold medication

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Do you ever have that weekend where you feel like you've been hit by a truck, sleep about 20 hours a day, can't seem to pry yourself off of the couch and can't decide if you've got the flu or if you maybe need to talk to someone about revisiting your prozac dosage?

yeah, me neither.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

WINNER WINNER, CHICKEN DINNER!!!! Tell the boy what he's won!

Yes, the correct response to a pitiful text message from me stating

"having a bad week, tell me how much you adore me"*

IS

"More than words. Anything I can do?"**




*shut up, I've known the d00d more than half my life (wow that makes me sound old), he's one of the only people on the planet from whom I can shamelessly whore attention without regret.


**I also would have accepted "let's go out for ice cream immediately", but that wouldn't necessarily be convenient when someone insists upon living in the Midwest

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

we now return to our regularly scheduled self-deprecation

You know those women who get all weird about wanting to share clothes with their teenage daughters?

I don't know if this is better or worse * & **



*sharing clothes with my preteen son? probably worse

** why does it look like I'm heading to a Kid Rock concert? Oh, right, something about the tattoos, uncombed hair and basketball jersey that gives the illusion of racktacular-ness.

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

This week sucks.

You would think, having to put my cat to sleep first thing on Monday, there's nowhere for the week to go but up, right?

not. even. close.

What's next, universe? An asteroid attack? Ebola? A swarm of killer bees? Finding out I'm related to Sarah Palin?

For reals, it's only Tuesday, and the way I'm going, I'll be surprised if I'm not prison or in a full body cast by Friday.

Monday, November 16, 2009

13 or so years ago, at the histamine-rich home of a cat rescuer, this cat climbed into my lap and became part of my family.

He's lived in 5 states and in 8 or 9 houses. He had a habit of carrying socks and tennis balls around the house (not at the same time). He could sleep 23 hours a day, but the sound of milk pouring into a cereal bowl would rouse him no matter where he was. Anyone bearing food or wearing dark clothes was his best friend.

Yesterday, he stopped eating and drinking and started having seizures.

Last night, I camped out on the couch with him, sleeping no more than fifteen minutes at a time to make sure he was okay.

This morning, he curled up in my lap as a mustachioed veterinarian injected a clear pink fluid into his leg to stop his heart. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Things that need to not exist in my world

1) Spiders cartoonishly large enough for me to see them creeping across the highway.

Oh, my fucking ew. Seriously, that is not right.

2)...

I got nothing, really, if those spiders were eradicated, I think I'd be happy.

Friday, November 13, 2009

So yesterday I'm on the phone with a Mormon Avocado Farmer's Wife (she's the mom of a kid on my kid's basketball team) - we're making small talk about basketball and 10-year-old boys (since, hi, that's pretty much all we have in common) and then she gets quiet for a second.

MAFW: This is kind of awkward...

me: (this can't be good)...

MAFW: I really don't know how to ask this...

me: (in the name of all that is holy, please don't ask if I'm down for some kind of a Big-Love-threesome thing, not that you and your husband aren't attractive, but I just really don't... like you guys that way. Not to mention how it would take copious amounts of alcohol for me to even be able to talk about that without giggling and I know how booze is verboten for y'all)...

MAFW: I'm wondering if you wouldn't mind watching [Mormon Avocado Farmer's Kid] for a couple hours tomorrow after school.

me: (fan-fucking-tastic, that's even worse, that means I have to clean the house, sweep up the tumbleweeds of dog fur, put the toilet paper on the actual roll AND WEAR PANTS... shit, I wonder if she'd consider a threesome instead...)

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Yesterday's Stellar Parenting Moment

Staring at the seriously vegetable-deficient pantry and thinking -

"Could popcorn be considered an appropriate side dish with dinner? It's technically a vegetable, right? Or it was at one time... prior to lots of processing... Fine, one night without vegetables won't kill the kid... ooooh, can ketchup count?"

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Yes, people who live in California are ridiculous

Seriously.

Every last one of us.

I could tell you stories. (if I know you IRL, I have told you stories)

But you know what? We have scenery like this to look at in the middle of freaking November

Monday, November 09, 2009

potpourri

California Department of Redundancy Department of California - when I was jogging this morning, I watched 3 landscaping guys on riding lawnmowers in a row, covering the EXACT SAME BLADES OF GRASS, then I saw 4 park employees walking like ducks in a row picking up trash on the exact same path (the first guy was getting everything, the other 3 were kind of just strolling.). Gosh, why does this state have financial problems? I don't get it. (also, how do those people have jobs and not me?)

An old man carrying a shilelagh almost went all vigilante on me this morning - I jogged 'round a corner at the park and came upon the dude feeding some squirrels, I guess I surprised him because he raised up his cane like he was going to smite me. I should be happy he didn't have a gun. Yay for not living in Texas!

I watch too much CSI - I took a little detour from my normal path at the park this morning and found myself on this deserted trail, lined with lush grass and fall-colored trees - a normal person would have enjoyed the cool autumn solitude, but I couldn't stop thinking about how long it would take someone to find my body if I were butchered there by some psychopath who lives in the graffiti-ed storm drain.

Once again, just for a second, I find myself pining for an anonymous little corner of the internet - I'm just sayin'.

Everyone who lives in the entire state of California (yes, including me) is ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous - for-fucking-real (possibly related to the above). brb, moving to Idaho or Belize or Prague or something.

Sunday, November 08, 2009

Every day, every day, every day, every day he writes the book

That lucky bastard.

I haven't written a damn thing in... a month? Is it the prozac? Is it a lack of inspiration? Am I just done writing?

Saturday, November 07, 2009

My kid is exactly like me, which sometimes is great and sometimes makes me want to shove him in a convection oven.

But then there's times when I find him crashed on the couch in the most painfully adorable photo op* that has ever existed and I just want to wake him up and squish him**.


* I guess the cat gets some credit for this, too - whenever someone is sleeping, he insinuates himself into the situation - which is cute sometimes, but annoying at 4AM when he decides he will die if I don't let him under the duvet to curl up with me.

** then I come to my senses and just try to enjoy the quiet.

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting

Friday, November 06, 2009

Is there an app for this?

Anyone who's ever tried to be my friend is aware that it's... not necessarily easy - I'm sarcastic, rarely serious, usually closed off, 32 flavors of moody and need a steady stream of attention.

And then there's the communication issues -

As much free time as I have, would it kill me to return an email once in a while?

Or hop on to one of the 12 million instant messaging services out there just to say "hey"?

And the only thing I'm worse at than actually answering my phone (hard to hear it ring when the ringer is shut off and it's stuck at the bottom of my purse) is calling people. (Why? I would generally be calling a mobile phone where the person would have the opportunity to take or not take my call. And, hello, who wouldn't be thrilled to talk to me?) (I'm not so bad with texting, but my cheap ass phone doesn't have a keyboard so it takes for-fucking-ever to be able to put together a coherent sentence)

Sometimes I'm confident I could easily live an Amish lifestyle, spending my days churning butter and quilting.

In spite of all of this, could someone please explain how I spend an inordinate amount of time lusting over the iPhone? I just... want one - I mean, look at it! With it's camera and flicky little touchscreen and all those available applications... Does a sexier piece of technology exist anywhere?

*swoon*

Do you ever wake up before the sun, pop in your contacts, grab a cup of coffee, curl up on the couch under a blanket that smells like fabric softener to watch the sky turn from velvet to watercolor and just... think about stuff? Really ponder the mysteries of the universe?

stuff like -

why isn't there anything other than infomercials, softcore porn and other infomercials on tv?

and

why the hell am I up so early?

and

what's so great about being up this early?

and

is it too early to go back to bed?

Thursday, November 05, 2009

come ON!

Within the past 2 days, my dog has destroyed

• a cute shirt I hadn't even worn yet
• a stuffed Noid doll that was certainly going to net me big bucks in eBay in a few years
  
• one of those cuddly lounge pillow things the kind that your mom used to let you use when you were sick in bed
• 2, COUNT THEM TWO, satin bras (the pink one and the black one)

All while I was home!

The hell?

The bras I can live without* but THE PILLOW! The fucking pillow! I loved that thing! Not to mention how long it took me to clean it up, it was like a damn Build-a-Bear exploded in the bedroom.


*not because I'm a hippy or non-bra-wearing (but thanks for thinking that), I just seem to have quite a collection of bras

Monday, November 02, 2009

You know how sometimes someone unexpectedly comes into your life and it kind of seems like it was meant to be?

And you don't even feel like a jackass for claiming that something is "meant to be"?

You get those excruciating butterfly flutters in the bottom of your stomach whenever you find yourself thinking about them (which, let's face it, is more often than you'd really care to admit).

They seem to be able to sense exactly what you need, even when you don't know.

You seem to be completely in sync.

Concepts like "destiny" and "serendipity" no longer seem like the stuff of Hallmark cards and Shakespeare plays.

You start to develop a taste for words like "we" and "us"



And then one day, something seems... off.

One of you you is one step ahead, one is two steps behind and you wonder if it really is as "meant to be" as you've been thinking.

Surely, you didn't imagine the connection, did you? It can't really have been just a random occurrence, can it?

So what do you do? Do you mention it? See if they've noticed it as well? Do you try to save something that might be everything, or just chalk it up to experience and try to move on?

Generally, I find it easier to put it into a box under the bed and go about the rest of my day, but this time it feels different, it feels more important than that.

So here goes -

Dear My iPod Nano Shuffle Function -

Today was rough - I took you to the park for a morning jog (or yog, it might be a soft "j", I don't know, I'm no triathlete) like we've done so many times before and I expected our usual mix of kicky pop music, punk songs with slutty bass lines and the thumping beats of hip hop, but instead you thought plaintive girl rock, reflective Bob Marley songs and the heartbreak of Otis Redding were more appropriate.

How could you have possibly thought that the relative stillness of the morning, alone with my thoughts, would be somewhere I'd need to be contemplative? It's like you don't even know me at all.

But I'm not ready to give up on us, I really think we have something, I really think you get me.

Maybe we should just take a little time away from each other - you can recharge and think about your playlists and I'll spend today with my iBook's iTunes.

Can we try again tomorrow?

xxoo,

me

Labels: letter to

Sunday, November 01, 2009

Self-awareness, get you some

Come on now, how do you NOT know that half of your ass is hanging out? I can feel it when my shirt creeps up half a centimeter, why can't this guy? Am I seriously the only person on the planet with nerve-endings in my lower back?