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Back and even productive

My favorite thing to do after a trip---by which I mean, the thing I most often do just because I am a poor planner and also lazy---is to come home and swear at least twice a day that I'm going to unpack in just a little bit. I mean, I don't want to brag, or anything, but I have been known to leave my suitcase in the corner of the room, untouched, for up to a month. And really, I thought that was what would happen this time, too. Somehow, though, I was both so buoyed from our trip AND so excited to return home to my dogs and my own bed (is there anything better than that first night back in...

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And then we went on vacation

You may or may not recall that every few years my father and stepmother gather up their collective children and grandchildren and take us all somewhere to sit around eating ourselves silly and telling embarrassing stories about the past. It's magical. My little nuclear family missed the last trip (which was three years ago) for Reasons and so this is our first time all together in five years. In preparation I went back and read my posts from the very first trip, which was a cruise, so it was fresh in my mind that when the cousins first met, Gerber had just turned one, Banana was a painfully...

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How to spend all your money without really trying

Whoops, I left another one of those long gaps, huh? I didn't mean to. I've just been so busy crying, you see. [Sidebar: EVERYTHING IS FINE. It's so fine, it's all-caps fine. I have to keep reminding myself of this. EVERYTHING IS FINE.] When I last left you, my awesome rainbow chairs were finished, but also so was our fridge. I was trying to just go with it, you know? Because the rainbow rockers truly are awesome. (In fact, they're so awesome, recently a gruff, busy-on-his-cell-phone UPS man embodying every stereotype you might imagine came up the walkway, saw the chairs, and when I greeted...

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You’re gonna be so sorry you asked

Hey, Mir, how's your week been? OH WELL I HOPE YOU HAVE SOME TIME TO SPEND! Pull up a chair! Grab a cup of tea, and maybe a few benzodiazepines. Whatever. Let's start last Saturday, because why not? Monkey has had a cold which has morphed into a sinus infection, and Otto has remained healthy because 1) Otto never gets sick and 2) Otto is rarely actually home, and I spent most of my spare time since the first sniffle washing my hands every ten seconds. Because I would NOT get sick, damnit! I have no time! And this time, I would escape it! So: SATURDAY Otto and I puttered around the house for...

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So many rabbit holes

There are approximately eight gazillion things I should be doing this week, so naturally I have accomplished none of them and now I am using what little time I have left before heading out to Tinytown to deliver a bunch of stuff to my oldest tonight to blog instead of work. Because blogging brings in the big bucks!! Oh, wait.... (Did you know I actually used to make money doing this? I don't anymore, but once upon a time it was in fact lucrative to overshare on the Internet. It probably still is for people who have business plans and long-range goals and strategic partnerships, whereas I...

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Recentish

I am positively CRUSHING 2018, in case you were wondering. Why, I made a new vision board on January 1st---as I've done for the past howevermany years---and I finally took down last year's board and hung the new one this week. In April. LOOK AT ME GO. (Okay, in my defense: It has to be sealed with some spray stuff and I couldn't find my old can of it, or maybe I'd used up the old can, I don't know, and then I didn't buy any until my 57 trips to the Big Home Improvement Store during Dressergate, and then I had to find the Command Strips, and... yeah, okay. That's not really a defense.) The...

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Tech Week

Or, Snot: The Opera. Or, Tell Me Again Why I Thought I Liked Doing Theater? Or, My Children Moved Out And All I Got Was The Plague (Twice). Or, Someone Hates Me And It's Hurting My Delicate Feelings. Good morning! Gosh, this is early for me to be blogging. (As in, early in the day. I realize I disappeared for a month, again.) But WHY NOT, I say, because I am 1) awake and 2) far too cranky to do anything else. I've already gotten out of bed, made myself some tea, irrigated my nasal passages with saline (sexxxxxy), taken some of the good, meth-making kind of decongestant where you have to go...

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2017: What. A. Year.

Chickadee has been home---intermittently, to be sure, as her college pals are mostly elsewhere, and as often as not, that means I'm kissing the back of her head as she leaves for a day or three to be with them---and that means certain things are assured: 1) Her "debris field" (as Otto likes to call it) is a constant reminder that my child may grow and mature but will always be comfortable and, to some extent, toddler-esque in her childhood home, and 2) The time will come when she is lounging on the couch, looks up from her phone, sighs with disappointment, fixes me with a baleful stare, and...

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News you can use (for… umm… something?)

Chickadee has been giving me a hard time lately about the blog. "You never write," she complains. "Why don't you write anymore?" I look at her, and she looks at me, and I shrug. Sometimes I follow it up with the usual excuses---I don't want to violate anyone's privacy; my life is pretty boring; there's other stuff that's more important right now. Those things are true, but another truth lies between us, unspoken: It has been a hard summer, for all of us, but especially between her and me. And the kids are theoretical adults (or close to it; heavy emphasis on "theoretical," too) and whatever...

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