2009 December

Crazy Game of (Misery) Poker

December 17, 2009 By 10 Comments

David Letterman once had a guy on a “stupid human tricks” segment who could drink milk and then make it shoot out of his tear ducts. It was both grotesque and sublime all at once.

Last year this time I had ~~dengue fever~~ a cold. This year, I have no cold. I did just have the inestimable pleasure of having a three inch long needle injected into the back of my head to deliver cortisone and lidocaine into a muscle that is misbehaving in my neck. Which was great. If you like needles. And pain. And pain delivered by needles. But. No cold. And for this we rejoice. You, too, can be cold free. If you are into S&M or waterboarding, this is extra good news for you.

Once a day, I pour warm salt water through my head. Through. My. Head. I use a Neti Pot – called this because of some reason that I don’t know but every time I start to think about figuring it out and start to look it up I find something about yoga and yogis and then I fall asleep. You know that feeling when you’re swimming and you accidentally snort a bunch of pool water up your nose? And the pain is sharp and stabby and awful? The first couple of times I used the neti pot it was like that. Except worse, because I was using warm salt water. I’ve got the hang of it now. It doesn’t hurt. But it sure isn’t pretty. Neti Pot usage is one of the very few things that I do not let my husband watch me do. Hot water going in one side and snot and hot water coming out the other side of your beloved’s face is not exactly conducive to romance. Or not throwing up.

On a more pleasant note, and because you should both visit A Widow For One Year but also because this is so worth the ten minutes of your day that are going to be lost to you forever: Tiger Woods’ Penis.

Filed Under: Keeping it Real

On Top of Everything Else, I’m Overdue for A Mammogram

December 16, 2009 By 14 Comments

It seems like a few weeks ago that I was driving to Newark to drop my father, his wife, and their dog off at the airport for their sojourn in London. The months have flown by, and today I have the inestimable pleasure of driving back to Newark, the city whose nickname is, I believe, ~~Window Up Doors Locked~~ New Jersey’s Own Garden Paradise, to pick them up. Which I mention by way of introduction to this post, which is about absolutely nothing because I’m trying to do too many things at once here today, including not think about the traffic potential on the Jersey Turnpike and how ticked off I am that I’ve already read or listened to all the Nelson DeMille books about John Corey narrated by Scott Brick, about whom I know nothing but whose voice is like a choir of angels. Hence, I will be listening to Bruce Springsteen sing to Clarence about how he’d better be good for goodness sake’s or he won’t get a new saxaphone.

Last year I got a mammogram on this day, which is healthier than driving to Newark or being stressed out. Click HERE to read all about my mammogram musings. Riveting. I know.

Despite the fact that I have nothing profound to offer here today, I still proceed, in the name of Keeping It Real:

My house looks like it’s been ransacked.

60 people are coming to my house to eat spaghetti tomorrow. I hope they’re comfortable eating noodles in squalor.

My son is going to be an angel, or a shepherd, or something, in the Nativity Pageant. I have to miss it. Which is probably good because lightning might strike me down and that would be embarrassing for him. And also because I will undoubtedly weep loudly and sloppily at the sight of my BABY on a stage performing in the Nativity pageant – which I brought him to when he was 10 days old and which made me weep loudly and sloppily because, nevermind that Jesus kid, MY son had just been born.

I have forgotten to feed my children dinner twice and lunch once in the past seven days. Yep. Just forgot.

My dog is trying to kill the Christmas tree.

In fact, I think the dog is trying to kill me.

Why? Because she wants to sleep on my bed next to my husband and I have a tendency to kick her off.

I keep forgetting to buy shampoo and conditioner so we’ve been using the little travel sized bottles I’ve ~~stolen~~ collected from hotels. This morning I think I used shampoo from my honeymoon. Which was in 2000.

It might not count as big news anywhere else, but last night my daughter tried a bite of a slice of tomato. Oh. My. Gosh. HUGE deal. She didn’t like it and says she’ll never eat one again, but people, do you understand? She ate something that wasn’t beige!

I’m working on a new web writing (OH ALRIGHT, Blog) project with someone else, and that someone else is doing all the work. I’m feeling a little bad about it. But not so bad that I’m offering to learn HTML and do some coding. I hope you’ll read it when it’s up and running, and I hope you’ll agree with what I say and not what the someone else says, even though now you know that that person has done all the work and I’m just riding in on his coattails.

For the last month and a half, I have either had, in my possession, a car key OR a house key. Never both. Not at the same time.

Right before she sat on Santa’s lap, my daughter changed her mind about what she wanted for Christmas. Instead of a lap desk on which she could do artwork while she stays up ~~until midnight~~ in bed, she wants a forty trillion dollar pink plastic Barbie something or other. Oy. But she said it on Santa’s Lap, so to Toys R Us I go.

According to scientific studies, done by me in my head just now, 82% of all produce I buy goes bad before someone in my house eats it.

I have done almost all of my Christmas shopping, yet I haven’t stopped Christmas shopping.

I have had so many boxes delivered from Amazon.com that my mailman hates me. So much in fact that I think I have to get him a really nice holiday thank you present. Maybe I’ll order him something. From Amazon.

My day today could have been hellish, but because long haired hot Starbucks barrista man made my latte this morning and delivered it to me with a big smile, all is good.

Filed Under: Holidays, Keeping it Real

Epic Dog Walk

December 14, 2009 By 8 Comments

My husband knows how to do all the cool stuff…at least, in the eyes of an 8 year old boy. He’s got the shop full of power tools in the basement. He can draw anything, and not just pirate ships and alien spacecraft but buildings and people. He can bait a hook and clean a fish. He can throw a spiral. He can serve an ace. He can fix a bike. And a car.

I have many gifts, some come naturally, others I have had to work at. Few of them, however, impress my children or capture their interest as much as their father’s abilities do.

We go for dog walks in the woods not far from our house, and on Saturday my son began to tell me a long and complicated yarn about what he and his best friends were playing at recess on Friday. Expecting to hear the usual Pokemon blah blah blah, I was taken completely aback when he announced that they’d been playing a game of make-believe in which they’d each been a Greek God setting out to destroy a mythical creature. He was Zeus. He was supposed to go after Cerberus.

And at that moment, two things happened: 1) I began to wonder if maybe, after all, I do believe in god because someone heard my desperate pleas to purify my life of all things Pokemon and 2) I became interesting to my son.

I don’t remember if it was me or TWGH who asked him, “You know who knows a lot about Greek mythology?” But when the answer came back, “Mommy,” he slowed his pace, reached for my hand, and started asking questions.

By the end of the walk he’d heard the Greek creation myths, although I sort of glossed over the part when Cronus cuts off Uranus’ genitals and throws them into the sea ~~and TWGH and I had to turn our heads every time I said “Uranus,” because it’s just funny. It. Just. Is~~, the story of Zeus defeating Cronus, and a description of the Underworld.

When we got home, he asked me to help him find books in the house about mythology, and asked me a question about Greek Heroes. Which led us to Odysseus, which led us to the Odyssey. Which is making me smile still as I sit here pecking out words on the keyboard.

After all, this is what I DO. All day these days anyway I try to explain to other people’s children all about Greek mythology and the Odyssey and why they are relevant and how they are and aren’t religion at the same time and why we have names for things that are related to those myths and so on and son on. And he got it. Not only did he get it. He loved it. And he wants more.

So today I brought home some books for him. Only ~~six~~ two. We’ll start slow. He’s excited to be learning this stuff, but not nearly as excited as I am to be teaching it to him.

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I’m getting all out of date here with my flashbacks to December, 2008, but since I’m planning on blowing off a bunch of days in the next two weeks anyway, I might as well get ‘em up here out of order. Plus, I made the cookies whose recipes appear in these links this weekend. I’m still scraping butter and powdered sugar off the ceiling.

Filed Under: Parent of the Year