Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Last night, N.Lo woke up around 3:30, convinced that his blankies were “all dirty.” Just a dream. (Funny, though, that dirty blankies are his nightmare.)
K.Lo dreamed about fairies, which is good, because she loves fairies.
And I dreamed… well granted, we can blame a) American Shaolin, which is about an American writer learning kungfu in China, b) The Amazing Race, which had a challenge this week related to noodles, and c) America’s Next Top Model, which I can only watch on hulu now, since direct tv does not have CW – I realize the girls went to New Zealand this week, but somehow my dream translated to Thailand. Because, you know, they once went to Thailand. Also, d) Survivor plays a small role, and possibly e) allergy medicine.
So we (you and me) are part of this travel group that may or may not related to modeling or picture taking. I don’t know. I just know there’s travel, and we’re running late, possibly not unlike Alaysia, who always runs late on Top Model. But we make it to our transportation in time, which is a long row of cars, and when I say long row, it’s like 5 cars lined up side by side, but they travel as one. Which gets hairy in a certain section of town, but we make it. They take us to the airport and then we head to Thailand, which may or may not be called New Zealand by the rest of us. I can’t confirm. But if it’s one of the countries, it’s definitely Thailand. Because of both the architecture and the fact that we’re fixated on a noodle shop across the street from our location (which suffers either a minor earthquake or a giant gust of wind just prior to our leaving), and those noodles are famous. They go for a dollar a cup. I say that I’ll buy us each a cup. So I go to do that, and you disappear. When I finally find you, you’re in this building (right next door to and possibly connected to the noodle shop) where you’re learning kungfu. The building is like a labyrinth inside and there you are, learning kungfu. Like flying and fighting and shit. I can’t tear you away, so I go eat my noodles. And then I have either more noodles and/or tea with some of the kungfu masters and the kitchen staff, and make you some. And you finally come to eat, and you’re like, all starry-eyed about learning the kungfu. Apparently you learned a certain style, and clicked with it, and you’ve decided to stay. STAY! Again you’re leaving me in a foreign country. It can’t be possible. I have to move on with the tour, and you’re staying behind because you believe it’s your destiny to learn this certain form of kungfu, which involves flying, twirling kicks. I should also mention that Ozzie, from a past season of Survivor, is there, and he’s like a national Kungfu star, or prodigy, or something. It’s a very strange background element that doesn’t play a large part, but there he is.
So anyway, I’m befuddled that you’re staying, and you’re so calm about it, and I'm just supposed to move on without you. I keep saying something – and now I can’t remember the line, but it was either really brilliant or really random. I say, “Your staying here is just like – x.” I can’t remember what x is, but whatever it was, you remained unmoved by the argument. And I was really concerned for some reason what would happen when I got home, like I wouldn’t have anywhere to stay, or something, and we had projects to finish together, but I can’t say what they were.
I cannot make this shit up. Where is your dream manual??
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
That's how i feel right now!
Ah well whatever, we'll see how it all plays out. Perhaps if i were to ascertain events I may take a pro/con column to see if I'm in a romantic comedy or a tragedy. My lack of a love interest indicates the latter. But we'll be pluckily optimistic for now. Which is so comedic of me to be. Maybe I'll wear something eccentric. But if i go out to pick flowers right now, which way is it going to lean. I'll have to pick my next steps very carefully.
Monday, April 26, 2010
I freakin’ love the snowball flowers. Here’s how our garden grows.
Well first there’s the tree that was knocked down by high winds yesterday. It’s still there, looking just like this until J.Lo can procure a chainsaw. We all knew that sucker was diseased and wasn’t going to last forever, and in fact, once it broke, we saw that it was maybe 75% deadwood. Hanging on by a thread. But still, it’s tragic. Yard desperately needs so more trees now. I wasn’t prepared to lose the side yard curb appeal so soon, but thank you Baby Jesus, for not letting it land on my car. That was very nice of you.
In happier news, the lantana is starting to flower. Pretty, happy lantana.
I have an actual cabbage patch! What is that all about? You might, in fact, be responsible.
The roses, after some stupidly gloveless pruning last week, are starting to flower.
The spinach from seed isn’t really spinach. Huh! It’s basil, from last year. Crafty basil, I missed you.
And then of course, there’s the Incredible Hulklike zucchini, eggplant and tomatoes. Bordered by chive insanity.
It’s time for mulch. The planter box flowers persist and I may or may not be OCD about deadheading, which I guess is what you’re supposed to do, but I don’t maintain any other habit with such gusto, so you know. That’s good.
so here is the awesome medicine chest he never gives me anything from. i think he suspects that i'm a westerner and not hip to his healing ways. though i secretly yearn for mysterious concoctions to take i will not complain about his massage or bone crackin' ways as they are awesome. the acupuncture itself is a mystery but let me tell you my knee feels so much better. i think i need a little more circulation from my mid back to my quadricep (as he says that's where the problem lies) and he himself has a pragmatic? is that a word? view of it, saying well- maybe you should wear a brace on your leg- as if he doesn't believe that after 4 sessions i'm not fixed then maybe never? silly doctor. no. its going to take time. and i'm going to go back after a while when i start to feel more tweeked. the sinus headaches ive had this week have given me pause so maybe its time? eh, not yet. lets not rush to healing shall we. also below you'll see i finally coped to wearing the gown, which i hate. something that makes me feel vulnerable and sick? actually sick? its bad. but anyway at one point i might as well have leeches on me. i think from the suction cups and the pin pricks he actually did bleed me? I can't say for sure. I just know that for $60 i get almost 2 hours of attention- chiro adjustment, time to 'relax'? and a doctor who sometimes tells me how the body is connected. It's win/win.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Have you noticed our post titles each month now form a sidebar poem?
My strawberry-rhubarb jam turned out delicious, but decidedly un-jamlike. Which disappoints. It’s more like jam sauce. Lots of jars of jam sauce. J.Lo pointed out it could be used for sundaes and scones, and I could just eat it with a spoon, too. I’m seriously considering it.
I’m riding the wave, the Crazy wave. Cried briefly when stung by boiling water. (Because it was so insulting! more than anything.) Considered a thousand ways to ship away the children this afternoon, came up empty-handed. They’re quietly playing Play-Doh for the moment, but we all know it won’t last. And then it’s like every little problem ($, jobs, what to make for dinner at night, whether people really like me, whether I really like people, which life-path to choose, what *really* happens after we die, whether petitions are really effective/just part of the GAME, why I insist on checking Facebook even though it’s pointless, the need/lack of desire to exercise more, the fact that I’ve unsubscribed to half my junk email and still get like a thousand junk emails a day, and finally, my torn respect for Parvati’s craftiness on “Survivor” vs. my strong desire to see her voted out, pronto) culminates and pokes at me like a thousand tiny skewers against my uber-sensitive thin skin.
Also, I hate both books that I’m reading. I mean, I like them both. I just don’t want to read them anymore because they’re both too much work.
See, told you the quiet wouldn’t last.
I await a letter to
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
I can feel The Crazy creeping up on me. I feel compelled to wear gray shirts and jeans, like I just want to blend in. With grungy colors. And hugs from children sometimes incite claustrophobia. Not always, just sometimes. And I want to be a hermit, not go anywhere, even yoga. No.socialization. I’m allergic.
And I get annoyed by small, picky things, like Idol running over (gah – Idol) and truncating my recording of Glee, so that I (apparently) missed Like a Prayer or somesuch song at the end. Bastard Time Warner Cable. I won’t be sad to see you go.
Also, we missed an appointment this morning (chiro) that J.Lo and I went back and forth on rescheduling, for three days. No, you call. I don’t want to call, you call. You better call, because I’m not going to call! Well, no one called, so we ended up looking scatter-brained and rude. (And yet, part of me doesn’t care? Because of The Crazy. The Crazy shrugs off rude, pretends it never happened.)
I want my Red Tent, dammit. I mean, so we have to right to vote and indoor plumbing. I guess that’s the tradeoff for us modern women? Cheap.
It’s raining today, which I sort of love, not just because it matches my mood, but because the plants will all get a good soak. And because I myself won’t have to go out there and water. The Crazy approves.
We picked strawberries yesterday, and they’re so tasty and I love them for being them, but I’m vaguely annoyed that they were all a day or two past ripe, so they’re on the brink of rot. Which is unfortunate when you buy a bucket and a half. Anyway, I made a sloppy batch of chocolate-covered strawberries, and had some others sliced up on my granola, and if I can get my hands on some rhubarb in the next day or two, there will be pie. Oh, yes, there will be pie.
The limoncello has turned glowy yellow and smells all limony. Snicket.
It’s time for Mario Kart, Wiiiiiiii! Woohoo.
rice pudding from artopolis. cath has bagged a lemon tart.
homemade scramble and smoothie goodness... the notnamed italian cafe- was pretty good despite everything.