just a creepy coincidence?

A Dead Pool update…
I am no longer in the lead, thanks to the annual Big Death Trifecta.

R.I.P.
Don Knotts 1924-2006
Darrin McGavin 1922-2006
Dennis Weaver 1924-2006

One might find it interesting that all three deaths were men with the letter D as the first letter of their first name.
One might find it just downright creepy that last year’s Big Death Trifecta, featuring Ronald Reagan, Ray Charles, and Rick James, also had men with the same letter as the first letter of their first name.
Coincidence? Or conspiracy?

had a lovely weekend.

Friday night, Manny and I hung out at home. He wasn’t feeling too great, but get a couple Guinness (Guinnei?) in him and he’s good as new. We listened to good music and had sweet talks and watched Battlestar Galactica.

Saturday we had gyros from the Trojan Horse for lunch. Mmmm… “euro” meat. Then we watched Legends of the Fall, one of my all-time favorite movies. And not because of Brad Pitt, but just because it’s a damn good film. Later that evening, Lori and I went to see Transamerica, which was wonderful. Then, on a whim, I got my nose pierced. Yep. I’ve been wanting to for a while, and it seemed that there was no better time to do it. It wasn’t bad, really, just kind of weird. Then we went to drink the pain away, which was not the smartest idea. But it worked.

Woke up on Sunday feeling like there was a school of fish swimming in my stomach, so I threw up and felt much better. Manny had to go pick up C-Rex, so I had the house to myself. I turned on the Tori Amos and I painted – something I haven’t for quite some time. It felt good. The rest of the day was relatively normal… picked up Kitten, visited my parents, had a great conversation with my dad about the two-week “internal cleansing” (read: “sweeping old shit out of the colon”) program he’s on.

Had a surprisingly easy Monday morning – atypical, really, because Mondays are usually insane. Got myself ready, got the girls ready, got us out of the house by 7:30. The three of us had great conversation in the car about what kind of houses we want when we “get bigger” and if a school bus is really orange or yellow. There was some cute dancing to Belle & Sebastian and then we had the drop-offs. C-Rex goes to a very Christian school (yo, not our choice), and this week is science fair week – lots of “God created the heavens and the earth” solar systems and dinosaur displays. I am finding this really ironic.

crock of shit pot.

Also known as a “slow-cooker,” the crock-pot and I have never had a very good relationship. My mother is quite a fan of the crock, and she can use it very well. So once I was an official “adult” and living not with my parents, I thought, hey! I can use one, too!
So for Christmas one year, Mom got me one. We’ll call this Crock A.
Crock A got used twice. The first time, she was used to make chili. It took all damn day and was, at best, mediocre. The second time in use was for a big batch of cocktail wieners. Yum, yum. However, Crock A met her demise after the wieners had been consumed and I was washing her out. She was still a bit slippery, and I dropped her on the kitchen floor. She cracked, big time, and couldn’t be used again.
The following Christmas, I was going to prepare a big dinner for a group of family and friends. I planned on making some good, hearty cheese dip. Not wanting to actually go out and buy my own new crock, I borrowed one from a friend named Rachel. We’ll call this Crock B.
Crock B’s cheese dip was a big hit, but I was a bit overzealous and made too much. After the feast, I was too lazy to clean it out, so I set it aside for the next day. Well, the next day came and went for about two months, and Crock B sat in a little corner of my kitchen, cheese still inside, waiting to be cleaned out. I peeked once and was too grossed out to do anything with it (granted, I was pregnant at the time and everything made me nauseous). Rachel finally came to retrieve Crock B one day in February. Being a great friend, she said she’d clean it out herself. I later found out she did this in her back yard with a garden hose and a bottle of Comet.
The homemaker vibe hit me once again late last year, and I put a crock-pot on my Christmas list. Mom came through, once again. We’ll call this Crock C.
I purchased a very special frozen crock-pot meal and decided to make it yesterday. I put the ingredients in in the morning and started her up. With any luck, it would be ready by the time I got home from work.
Ready, it was, but edible, I’m not so sure. It smelled funky. And LOOKED funky. Manny said, “It looks like someone ate it and then threw it back up into the crock-pot.” And he was exactly right. So I dumped it into the garbage disposal and made something else instead.
So if anyone has any successful crock-pot stories, I’d like to hear them.

what makes you happy when you’re a mom.

I had a good morning, despite getting up late (blaming this on the new bedding scheme – so comfortable that it’s coma-inducing). I was getting ready when I heard Kitten talking in her bedroom. I didn’t know she was up yet, so I went in and didn’t see her at first. She was under all her blankets.

“Hellooooo… where are you?” I called.
“I hiding!”
She threw the covers off and sat up. She has the worst morning hair – it sticks in a thousand different directions. She started grinning and then she looked out the window. Then she looked at me and started flapping her arms like a bird and making little bird noises.
“What’s with you?” I laughed.
“I a baby chicken,” she replied, and started running around her room, still flapping.
All morning long, she kept making little chicken noises. Then, as I was putting dinner into the crockpot (oh yes, the crockpot), she was looking out the back door, yelling “Birdies! Look at the birdies!”

In the car on the way to daycare, we listened to the Backyardigans CD. For those of you not in the know, the Backyardigans is a show on Nick Jr. It’s all computer-animated (which I’m not crazy about, but still) and has five main characters: Tyrone, Pablo, Tasha, Uniqua, and Austin. Pablo (or Tablo, as she says) is Kitten’s favorite – he’s a penguin. It’s an adorable show, and thankfully it isn’t entirely mindless. It does, in the typical fashion of kids’ shows, have an abundance of songs, but the songs are tolerable – which is why I don’t mind listening to the CD. They’re actually orchestrated, with real instruments! Kitten knows all the words and sings along very well.

While driving, we also shared a fruit/yogurt smoothie. I’m still hesitant about giving her open containers (I mean, cups without lids), but she did fairly well. She insisted on keeping it in her cup holder and told me not to spill it. “Be careful with dat juice, Mommy! Don’t spillit!”

After I dropped her off at the daycare, it took me about five minutes before I realized I was still listening to the Backyardigans. And singing along.

what i did yesterday.

After 5 hours of sleep (I stayed up late watching The Constant Gardener), C-Rex woke me up because she was “bored.” I reluctantly dragged my ass out of our newly-outfitted and very comfortable bed (new sheets! new pillows! new lovely comforter!) and made myself presentable. Then we went out for breakfast. Because my coffee-drinking-cessation did not work, I am still a zombie before my caffeine in the morning.

We went to the Village Deli downtown and surprisingly got in right away. C-Rex was all agog with excitement over the checkerboard floors and bright orange walls. Breakfast was very nice – chocolate chip pancakes and chocolate milk (her) and biscuits & gravy and coffee (me). Then we went to Target and got her this bead jewelry kit that I think Manny hates me for buying.

On the way home, she was kind of quiet, and then out of the blue, she said, “You know what I was just thinking about?”
“What?” I replied.
“I was thinking ’bout all my toys and movies and my princess dolls were all standing around me and then I started crying and then they all looked at me ’cause I had a tail.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking just now.”

So in case you ever wonder what kids are thinking about when they’re all quiet, just know that it’s probably really, really weird.

it’s just a little strange.

I forgot to post this picture when I took it a couple weeks ago…

C-Rex was playing very quietly in her room one day.

I went in to check on her, and I saw this:

“What’s going on there?” I asked her.

Very solemnly, she replied, “They’re watching him sleep.”

Indeed.

but i still like gloria estefan.

I’m listening to the Dandy Warhol’s album Welcome to the Monkey House. On track 3, “Plan A,” I swear I hear the sound of a rain stick in the background.

This starts me thinking. I used to have a rain stick. I bought it at the Nature Store when I was 10. When I was 10, I was very into the Nature Store. They carried all kinds of “sounds of the night forest set to light dulcimer music” CDs, as well as various shiny pebbles, books on poison arrow tree frogs, and jewelry made from cedar chips.

It was at this time in my life that I also danced in my basement to Gloria Estefan whilst wearing a hot pink leotard and bright clip-on earrings. “Rhythm is Gonna Get You” was my favorite. “Words Get in The Way” summed up my feelings about a certain 6th grade boy and also translated beautifully into expressive, pseudo-ballet dance moves.

It was also at this time in my life that I was in the special “gifted and talented” classes in 5th grade. I was complete shite at math but I could read and write like a motherfucker. I wrote little plays about manatees and otters that we performed in class. I also won the school and county spelling bees. I went on to the regional and got knocked out in the third round on the word “moraine.” I cried.

So, essentially, listening to the Dandy Warhols got me thinking about what a complete nerd I used to be. And still am. It’s great.