||[Sep. 14th, 2007|10:37 am]
Whole lotta labia.
Five things make a post:|
1) Happy birthday, Collette! Your smile lights up my refrigerator (where I have pictures of us from renfaire) and you light up my life. :)
2) Haven't seen The Lost Room?! Sweet Jeebus what the fuck is the matter with you? Get to your Netflix queue or whatever and remedy that. Like now. Seriously people, if it's good enough that I'd rather watch it than sleep? These days that's like saying it's made out of rubies and pudding.
3) I was due back at work on the 1st of October and dreading it (she's a lot of fun to be around, I'm going to miss her) but they're laying people off at my company so I was loathe to take any more leave. I figured my best shot was to go in and talk to my boss face to face so I did that on Tuesday and he suggested working from home for the first two weeks of October so I could be on the books and working but still get time with herself. Whee!
4) Things to pimp: Lost Room, clearly. Mrs. Henderson Presents was sweet and heartwarming in that light and charming kind of way that Judi Dench can be. Things to pimp(NOT): Fast Food Nation depressed us so much that we both skipped dinner last night. (Chloe, of course, was unmoved - the heartless bitch - and continued to dine at Chez Mom as they showed the inner workings of the meat packing plant) Also, season one of Highlander sucks. It does. I'd been promising myself I'd start over from the beginning but I can't help it.. I'm skipping ahead at least until Adrian Paul's hair grows out and they lose that awful weave.
5) I don't mean to be crass here, but... If Chloe wakes up fussing in the middle of the night we check all the usual suspects (diaper, food, etc.) and then if it looks like she's just fussing randomly we offer the pacifier. I don't think I'm wrong in saying that the look on her face in those first few seconds aftershe gets it, where her eyes drift to half mast and all the muscles relax, it creepily reminiscent of those scenes in Trainspotting where they shoot up. Seriously, I'm wondering if that thing is laced with something illegal. Not that I'd stop using it, of course, because I like sleeping even the four hours I get these days, but I just wonder.
Oh, and I took that career matchmaker thing. #1 was horse trainer. #21 was stuntperson. #10 was pipefitter. As Cait would have said: Huh.
Hi Mellies. I miss you. also? I loff.
horse trainer, huh? amazing.
Binky as Heroin. Interesting thought, maybe we should offer Jamie some drugs to help her get off of hers. My cousin Erik used to call it the Blow Job Training Tool.
Anyhoo. Ping me if you're on aol im, as I am ALWAYS on at work and able to type to you with reckless abandon.
Also, my hips hurt randomly. Do you know of any vitamin deficiencies which make that happen? It's harshing my running buzz. They don't hurt when I run, but when I stand up from sitting. It's just weird. Shoes show no weird wear pattern, lacing them tighter has helped with the weird toe crowding.
And I need a new sports bra, badly. These are the things I have to whine about. So sad I know.
I love you, are you going to be able to come down soon?
In Regards to the Pacifier and My Mother's Supreme Genius
When SidBro and I were ages 3 and 4 respectively, SidMom decided she'd had it with these muthafucking binkies in her muthafucking plane. We'd been weaned down to only demanding them before nap time, so during this final nap, SidMom took the binkies, rounded up all the binkies still in the house, and threw them in the trashcan outside.
When SidBro and I awoke, we asked in plaintive tones what had happened to our binkies. SidMom drew on all the sad, understanding tones she had learned in her life and told us, "I'm so sorry, honies. All your binkies had to go to the moon."
And because we were 3 and 4 years old, WE TOTALLY BOUGHT THAT SHIT.
I have the smartest mommy ever.
The ST version: ST's mother was just getting totally grossed out at the state of his blankie but he wasn't quite ready to move on (though he should have been) so she appealed to his sense of fairness by telling him about all the poor kids in the world who didn't have blankies and how they might appreciate his. So they packaged it up and addressed it to "The Poor" and took it to the post office and gave it to the clerk to have it mailed.
I love the idea of ST's mom mouthing "OMG Throw. It. Away." over his head and then the clerk being all "We'll mail this to The Poor, yes, certianly."
1) SO ADORABLE and speaks volumes about the sainthood of ST.
2) AHAHAHAHAH! The Poor! That's INGENIOUS!
I cannot even, Mellies. Best story EVER.
And also, the vision of you guys solemnly nodding as you comprehend that there is a spaceship somewhere launching into orbit with a payload of binkies? hee!
When SidMom relates this story nowadays, she includes the rider, "I had NO idea that would work, but you guys just took it in stride. Didn't even ask WHY the binkies had to go to the moon. I felt INVINCIBLE."
I heart my mom liek wo.