Fringe benefits
I have a confession to make. I blog for the goodies.
Sure, it didn’t start out that way. But since I started blogging? People have sent me all kinds of things, for no reason other than that I have been on their blogs at the right times or answered some silly question or entered a contest. I love to win things. And I love to get free stuff. And the LOVE, people! I’m feeeeeeeling the LOVE!
Nothing says love like free stuff. That’s a fact.
I’m sorry… I’m just a little verklempt… hang on… I’m okay….
Just look at what I got in the mail today! For no reason!! I ask you: what is better than chocolate? Why, chocolate you’re not expecting! From Harry and David! Just because! When Sheryl offered to send me something for being her bazillionth (I think) commenter, I figured it would be a “little something.” I did not figure on a box of macadamia shortbread chocolate-covered hearts. Hearts! They are almost too beautiful to eat! But not quite, because it would be against the laws of nature for anything involving chocolate to be too gorgeous to eat. So eat I have, and they are delicious. And I love Sheryl and her generosity so very much, that you must all now go to her site and share the love, because I am not sharing these delicious treats with any of you because they are MINE.
Uh, I mean, if you were here, of course, I would willingly share, but, oh well, you’re not, so, um, sorry about that. But I will think of you while I’m eating them. Honest.
And it was with great compassion and a touch of sadness that I answered the children’s inquiry about my package with, “OH WELL, these have NUTS in them and that means they are POISONOUS and you can’t have ANY. Darn!”
Because I’m sensitive, that way.
Woulda Coulda Shoulda: second-guessing my every move, and digging the freebies. Now with even more gluttony!
Flu shot with a side of guilt
As I’m sure you’re aware, unless you live under a rock or something, there’s a huge shortage of flu vaccine this year. I don’t really understand the particulars, on account of I didn’t pay any attention. What I heard was “vaccine shortage” and from there my neurotic Mama mind spun into overdrive. The details are unimportant. What is critical is this: if I have to live through another Year Of The Flu, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.
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Porkbutt
I was organized today, on account of today I had to take Chickadee into The Big City for her bi-annual appointment with the fancy schmancy eye doctor. Now, I know I’m revealing myself for the country hick that I am when I say that any time I have to go down thataway I plan my entire day around it. I don’t mind if you know how much I hate driving in (or even near) the city. I am many things, but I am not a particularly aggressive driver, and I am not fond of those who are.
So, for me? Heading down to Boston takes a certain mindset.
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Discovery
I’m a multi-tasker. I have a deep appreciation for anything that functions well in multiple capacities.
So you can imagine how thrilled I was, this morning, to discover that the Vivelle Dot box is exactly the right size for squishing bugs that have wandered into the tight quarters of my master bathroom.
Their current tagline is “Works well. Wears well.” But I think, “Sanity, strong bones, and insecticide” is so much catchier, don’t you?
My kingdom for a… belt
You’d think that I would be learning, as I go along in the interview process. Each new job interview is another opportunity to hone my skills, perfect my schtick, and transform myself into the job candidate of which potential employers dream.
You’d think that, if you’d never met me.
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So this vampire walks into a bar…
Yeah. Um. I’m kinda hoping Jay gives us a slightly more upbeat topic for next month’s contest. Despite the myriad of stories from which I struggled to choose just one example of my grappling with insanity (yes, just trust me, I had lots of choices), it would seem that my last post left a thick cloud of The Serious in here.
And–believe it or not–having completed the piece, gotten it out of my head and off my computer, I am not in the mood for gloom. Time to lighten up.
So! A riddle, of sorts.
What do you do when you’re at church, lining up with the choir, and are suddenly accosted by an 80-year-old woman gushing about your outfit in the following manner: “You look SO ADORABLE in that, and I’m just looking at you thinking that if I wore the same thing I would just look so frumpy and dowdy, but on you it is SO ADORABLE!”
Well, if you’re me, you murmur a hesitant thank you–wondering if perhaps you heard wrong, or she doesn’t realize how incredibly backhanded that sounds–and consider never wearing that outfit again, and then turn to the pastor for rescue. He has heard this exchange and the moment your gazes meet, his mouth twitches. With no further ado, you both succumb to a mutual and decidedly unholy giggle fit.
Even the House of God isn’t impervious to my force field of farce.
Tumbling Down
Today’s post is my entry for the fourth Blogging For Books contest over at The Zero Boss. This month’s topic is Insanity, with the charge to write about a time you were pushed to the brink of insanity (figuratively or literally), and how you lived to tell the tale.
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The Full Puppy
True to his word, my ex delivered the goods this evening. We were all quite amused; and for a moment–as the kids and I giggled and flipped through the dozen or so poses he’d put the puppy through on the copier–I had a sudden glimpse of the man he used to be, and the family we once were.
Then I realized my wistful moment was a byproduct of stuffed animal porn. That helped to put the nostalgia in perspective.
Ummmm… expensive bug bites??
Chickadee and I were driving to Monkey’s school to pick him up, and she asked me to turn on the music. I punched up the Ben Folds Five CD I’d been listening to, earlier. “Song For The Dumped“* started.
My hand went to the knob, and stopped. A glance in the mirror revealed Miss Chickadee bopping around in her seat, rocking out to the beat, and generally appearing unmindful of the lyrics. Maybe I’d just let it play. Turning it off would take more explaining.
As we walked into the school, Chickadee turned to me and asked:
“Why do they itch? Will they stop itching if they give the money back?”
* For the unfamiliar who perhaps don’t feel like following the link, the lyric in question is “Gimme my money back / Gimme my money back / You bitch.”
Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
Well, are you? I bet you are.
No, really. I mean, it’s so clear. Anyone who’s anyone is pondering it right this very minute.
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