Friday Flashbacks: I scream, you scream…
… we all scream for ICE CREAM!
What can I say? Summer’s here. Tis the season. Tonight I found myself eating ice cream with friends, and reflecting on the stages of my life as displayed in my choice of frozen dairy confection.
I’m deep that way, you know.
Tonight’s flavor was Sandwich Cookie Snowstorm, I believe, which was not bad. It wasn’t quite as good as the flavor I REALLY wanted, which was Ice Cream Sandwich (someone used to make that as a flavor in a half-gallon, but I haven’t been able to find it in ages; I think it was Edy’s), but it did the job.
As always, join in and share your proclivities. I’m deep and voyeuristic, apparently.
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God, I wish I’d shaved my pits today
Have you ever had one of those sorts of days when you’re just feeling kinda blah, and you certainly don’t look your best, and you kind of just want to hole up with a good book and some ice cream, and then it turns out that you have to, like, entertain company?
When I was eight months pregnant with Chickadee, I woke up one Sunday morning and burst into tears. I was too fat, too uncomfortable, and the very idea of hauling myself to church was TOO MUCH. I told my husband to go without me. He insisted I would feel better if I just got up and out. I pulled the covers over my head. He continued cajoling me until I put on one of his shirts and some stretch pants, threw my hair into a ponytail, and accompanied him to church (sans shower). When we came home? All of my friends were at our house, throwing me a baby shower. Oops!
And so it is today–the first day that my children are away on their trip–that I have worked late, grocery shopped, come home and considered going straight to bed. Well, maybe I’ll poke around online a bit, first. While I have some ice cream.
Imagine my shock and surprise to discover than Woulda Coulda Shoulda is today’s Yahoo! Pick. Here I am with thousands of new visitors and unsightly stubble. I’m so embarrassed.
Thank you, Yahoo!, for taking notice of my little corner of the world. I am humbled to be recognized. But, uh, a heads up would’ve given me time to shave… and maybe bump those posts prominently featuring my vagina off of the top page. Just sayin’.
My phantom uterus is already aching
My children have left my care for the next eleven days.
And while it is true that yesterday I warned them that if I had to listen to the “my potty is so warm and cuddly” song (punctuated throughout with shrieks of laughter) one more time I was going to chew off my own face in an effort to escape; and also true that just about an hour before they left I threatened to remove EVERY DAMN BOOK IN HERE from Chickadee’s room for (repeated) mistreatment (again) of said books, going so far as to stride self-righteously down the hall with an armload of books while she trailed behind me wailing in indignation; the house is too quiet and the days spread out before me seem empty.
Also, the kids are headed to Happy Fun No Rules Land, but I’m sure my inability to control where they are or what they’re doing or how many s’mores pop-tarts they’re scarfing down for the next eleven days is only 99.99% of my discomfort. Ahem.
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Marked decrease in bodily fluids
I am pleased to report that the general state of health at Casa Mir appears to be on the upswing. I am not pleased to report that health = boring = dearth of interesting blogging, but really, I don’t even need to report that, because you all already noticed. Oops.
Sure, there are still plenty of things to worry about, and heaps of things making me tense or angry or stressed or sad or–OH MY GOD WHAT IS THE POINT OF GOING ON?? Ahem. Sorry. No, things are looking up! Yes! Truly. I’ve decided to focus on the good stuff for… ummm… an hour. If I do it for too long, I start to itch and break out in an ugly rash. But an hour, I think I can handle that.
Besides, I was trying to jolly someone out of a funk yesterday and found myself offering “You’re healthy!” as a reason not to be down, which caused me to conclude that either A) I’m 75 or B) I should practice a little gratitude about health, myself.
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The epitome of yin and yang
The weekend has served to highlight that–as usual–my life is composed of blacks and whites, with nary a grey to be found. Why have happy mediums when you can just swing from joy to fury and back again, I say. It just keeps things interesting.
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Friday Flashbacks: Heat wave!
Sometimes I’m so brilliant, I just want to pat myself on the back. Heartily. With a stun gun.
The thermometer hit 90 today, and tomorrow it’s only gonna get worse. Knowing full well that I would not want to venture out tomorrow, I picked the kids up from school and took them SHOE SHOPPING, because everyone knows that a hot, sticky Friday afternoon at the end of a long week is a great time to take small children to multiple stores to try on sandals.
But–the small voice at the rear of my brain whines–they NEEDED sandals. It was FOR THEM. And they should appreciate it, becau–
That’s pretty much when the logic center of my brain bitchslaps that little voice into submission.
Let’s face it: things just aren’t the same in the heat. Tempers are shorter, everyone is stickier, and life just seems more complicated. The sure cure? A pool. There is nothing like a pool when the temperature soars, and tonight I shall recall Pools I Have Known rather than expound on The Great Sandal Hunt. As always, feel free to join in.
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Slow bleed
I had to go have blood taken this morning. You and I and half the internet all know that the only thing wrong with me is that I’m touched in the head, but my doctors thought they’d check a few other things, anyway. And really, who doesn’t enjoy a quick trip from work to have a needle jabbed in their arm?
The nurse called me from the waiting room and we walked back as she looked at my file. “How ya doing?” she asked. “Any better?” I guess she was the nurse who saw me the last time I was sick.
“I’m okay,” I answered. We arrived in the lab room, and she turned around to peer at me.
“You sure?” she countered.
“Well, I’m HERE, but yeah, other than the depression and anxiety and whatever else might be wrong, I’m GREAT!” I was hoping that would end the conversation.
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Just as baffling, way more gross
I feel the need to point out–before I begin–that today is still a Good Day. In spite of what I’m about to tell you. Really. In fact, it’s the overall Goodness of this day which allows me to view the following as fairly amusing, rather than horrifying.
Have you ever been to The Mystery Spot? Fascinating place. Freaky, but very cool. Defies the laws of gravity, blah blah blah.
There’s a lesser known attraction gaining fame here on the east coast, you know. It’s true. Similar, but completely different! And also, gooey!
I am of course referring to The Mystery Nostril. Yes.
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Better than “love” on Oprah
I hoped, and I wished, and I prayed. I offered up silent sacrifices befitting the huge favor I was pleading for with my mind. I told myself not to get my hopes up, not to get my heart set on what very well might not happen, and to be ready for the disappointment.
As I live in a town of parents known to be pushy and unreasonable, I kept my desires to myself. I made no demands. I just… kept… hoping against hope that this one little sign of promise would play out in our favor.
Today was the last day of school, and the manila envelope in Chickadee’s backpack held a report card, several miscellaneous informational sheets, and her teacher placement for next year. Together we withdrew the papers, trembling in anticipation. I unfolded the placement letter and let my eyes drop to the signature line…
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Crowded calendar, clear complexion
Know what sucks? Decaffeinated coffee. Bleah. But caffeine on top of anxiety is sort of like, um, I dunno, being electrocuted and then while you’re still laying there twitching, having someone come up and prod you with a taser.
Actually, it’s probably nothing at all like that, but without caffeine I lack the neural connections necessary for a lucid metaphor.
Anyway, although I weep for my coffee, and my tea, and my beloved Diet Coke with Lime, my skin is beautiful. Pasty white, of course, but zit-free! Beautiful! Apparently caffeine clogs the pores. Or maybe it’s completely unrelated and it’s just free time that causes pimples. More research is needed.
(I believe I have some free time scheduled for August. We should know by then.)
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