July 2012
35 posts
Brandon has been demoted from grocery cart seating to Baby Bjorn because that’s how he wanted it. Also because halfway into every shopping trip he would start whining and pawing at me and pulling my shirt and the deli guy got a good flash of boob so I said, “No mas!”
I face him toward me because he likes it that way. Also because if I face him out he randomly grabs things off the shelves and...
Okay which one of you paid the British guy to...
“Colin, may I call you Colin? No I’m fine, my eyes are closed because I’m pretending you’re Colin Firth. Look this isn’t going to work unless you can keep up.”
(In real life all I did was blush furiously and mutter something unintelligible until he went away.)
Me: Why do you always have to leave your stuff all over the place, trailing and shedding it behind you like a snake skin?
Ken: Baby that was beautiful. Very metaphorical nagging.
This was supposed to be cute and upbeat. So was I.
“I don’t miss it. I don’t miss men looking at me. It’s a relief to walk into a convenience store and walk right back out without some hangabout in sleeveless flannel leering as I leave, some muttered bit of misogyny slipping from him like a nacho-cheese burp. Now no one is rude to me, but no one is nice to me either. No one goes out of their way, not overly, not really, not...
1 tag
When I was in 7th grade, a new kid transferred to our school. His name was Diba, but the foreign awkwardness of his name didn’t stop the girls from scribbling it on their Trapper Keepers and surrounding it with little hearts.
Diba. DibaDibaDiba.
I decided I, too, would love Diba. I wrote him a letter telling him how I felt and gave it to my friend who had the good fortune to sit next to...
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You guys I have LITERAL. BUTTHURT.
I have coccyxgodynia. I have to stay off my ass for a week.
I swear I’m going to write a musical about my life. It’s going to be a tragicomedy where the main character is a plucky young woman with a literal pain in the ass. People will think I’m being all metaphorical because no one will believe this kind of shit REALLY HAPPENS TO ME!
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"Add at least 10,000 words to your novel."
That’s what I was told.
Apparently I was bordering on novella length. And printing costs, profits, something, blergh blah blarg…
So I was told to get back to work on my finished work, and I immediately did the metaphorical equivalent of melting into a heap on the floor and whining, “But I don’t wanna! My life is over! Wah!”
What? WWJD?
Tantrum complete, I...
2 tags
Super secret tumblr message with decoder ring...
To the person who wrote a very nice thing and included me:
You know that time? When I met you in person and we started talking and it was like picking up a conversation we’d left off right in the middle except there was no such conversation because we’d never met before? And HOW MUCH WE LAUGHED?!? Because everything out of our mouths was an inside joke out of some parallel...
jmommycubed asked: Can you tell me how you used your breast milk to cure the infected eye on your baby? I have the same problem currently and was wondering if there was any thing specific beside just putting a few drops in?
M: Do you know how long it’s been since some guy checks me out?
K: Who checked you out?
M: Nobody. This is what I’m saying.
Perspective
“If I fail the bar, I will have wasted my life,” he says. “I’ll be 30 in a couple of years. That’s my whole life right there.”
I struggle to keep from rolling my eyes. But then I roll them anyway. What does it matter? I’m eavesdropping. The rules of etiquette don’t apply.
I want to turn to him and say, “Get a grip! Life is hard and so is the bar. But honey, you’re not even 30. You’re a...
“My youth is gone, and with it goes summer romances with men not used to being...”
– Christaaland
Some posts hit you right there. No, a little higher. A little to the left. There…
- Whenever someone mentions anything remotely related to Colin Firth I always make it a point to announce that I am a HUGE FAN. Then I automatically get a visual of those big, stand-on-the-floor fans used to dry carpeting and I think how I’m full of hot air and everything feels so symbolic like a book in English class.
- Last night I fell asleep thinking about numbers that I’ll never be again....
Booby Boob Thursday
When B was a newborn, I cured his infected blocked tear duct with breast milk. Because I am MAGICAL! (And also anti-bacterial properties of breast milk, but mostly the magic thing.)
Now he has pink eye, so we’re making yet another story to embarrass him with in front of his friends when he’s older.
I swear I should start charging people for this stuff.
MAGIC BOOBS!
Ken: Can babies eat chocolate? Isn’t that poisonous for them or something?
Me: That’s dogs.
Truthful Tuesday
I had to withdraw money from the savings account I started for Brandon when he was born in order to pay the light bill this month and I feel like a complete and utter failure-asshole about it. I’m walking around with that I-want-to-cry tightness in my chest. I’m dealing with it by breaking up a package of taco shells, dipping them in salsa, and stuffing them in my mouth area. (i.e....
What is this "sleep" you speak of?
These days, I have alibis. Where was I at 4:00 a.m.? I was nursing a sleepy 9-month-old. At 4:45 a.m.? Rocking a no longer sleepy 9-month-old back to sleep. 5:30 a.m.? Still rocking. 7:00 in the morning? Sweeping the floor. Crawling babies need clean floors. When did I sleep? I didn’t. And I’ll tell you that as soon as I stop this hysterical sobbing.
I was ready for my...
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Me: Oh God! It smells like shit in this elevator.
Ken: I know.
Me: No, I mean literally. It smells like feces.
Ken: I’m telling you I know.
(10 minutes later.)
Me: OH MY GOD THAT SMELL WAS COMING FROM YOUR SON!
Longing
Walking into Barnes & Noble. Seeing the shelves and shelves of books. Moving slowly and with reverence. Running my fingertips over the slick spines, the glossy covers, the pages like velvet. Feeling my heart all molasses-heavy as a voice inside me asks, “Why not me?”
This is longing. This is absolute want.
I will say the rejections have progressively been getting more positive.
So...
“I just discovered a frozen yogurt bar where instead of a paper cup they give you...”
– Texts Ken gets when he’s babysitting the sugar booger
Oh. See? Dee.
Ken: I’m throwing out all these receipts in your glove compartment.
Me: OK
Ken: And these tissues.
Me: OK
Ken: And this bundle of Starbucks stir bars.
Me: No don’t throw those out!
Ken: They’re used.
Me: I know. I like to collect them.
Ken: They’re all the same.
Me: I know.
Ken: They’re free.
Me: I know! I like to collect them! Don’t throw them out!
I don't look as sexy as I feel
Outside I am wash-and-go hair and flip-flops. I am Old Navy T-shirts. I am Joni Mitchell’s “Chelsea Morning”.
Inside…
Inside I am Beck’s “Timebomb”. I am Goldfrapp’s “Strict Machine”. I am a quiet storm waiting, and I go on and on forever.
And sometimes, they meet, the inner and outer me. Sometimes I press my knees together and...
I was lying on the floor letting Brandon use me as a jungle gym when Ken walked in and offered to take him for a bit. He scooped him up and spirited him away, and I was left lying there and wondering what to do with myself. I thought maybe I’d do some writing or fold some laundry. Instead, while I was thinking, I fell asleep.
I FELL ASLEEP! In the middle of the living room floor!
I...
