Wednesday, July 30
Tuesday, July 29
Tag, You're It
What were you doing 10 years ago?
I had just moved to Covington, was working downtown Cincinnati. Hadn't yet discovered Wildflour, even though it was in my backyard. I thought it was a museum. Working out way too much. Single.Five things on my to do list:
Be the world's greatest motherGraduate in two years at the top of my class
Get rid of all the crap I don't need
Read more. ha ha ha ha ha
Memorize all my friends and family members' birthdays and send them cards
What snacks do you like?
M&Ms When I'm finished nursing baby, I will make myself sick on peanut M&Ms
Wheat free Dairy free Newman Os. Damn you, Paul Newman!!!!
Chips and salsa
Toast
What would you do if you were a billionaire?
Buy a 40 cm orange Hermes Birkin, dammit! And one for all my friends who like bags. Don't go acting like you like bags now just because I said I'd buy you one. You know who you are.Three bad habits
Looking stuff up nonstop on the Internet
Swearing
I'm a total slob
Five places you have lived
Independence, KYLexington, KY
Covington, KY
Cincinnati, OH
Brooklyn, NY
Five jobs you've had
Sales assistant at a tuxedo shop
Cashier at Bob Evans God, I sucked at that.
Arena football cheerleader
Coffee girl/server at Wildflour Bakery
Massage therapist
How did you name your blog?
I have my degree in journalism, so it's a little take on that aspect of interviewing, though I'm always the subject. It used to be absurditiesofsomepeople but that got on my nerves so I changed it, which reminds me of the guy I dated who broke up with me because I couldn't make decisions. I'd roundhouse kick him into next week if he hadn't enlightened me to an aspect of myself I'd never noticed.
Monday, July 28
What's the What?
When radiator fluid leaks it smells like maple syrup and sprays all over the hood of your car and on your windshield. Or maybe that was maple syrup.
Baby loves to freak people out by waving and yelling HI at them if they seem to be ignoring her. If they look disinterested, she'll wave with both hands. Not a flappy mess. A full-on princess wave. Practice makes perfect.
Public restroom "Soap Lotion" is the bisexual of hand cleansers. Just pick one, dammit. Are you a Soap? Or are you a Lotion? Why must you waffle? And smell like urinal mints?
Baby had her first French fry today. And then she had her second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. Just little bits of fries. She thought they were you know...whatever.
She also charmed a bartender and got him to honk the choo-choo's horn for her without even having to ask. I didn't try to place wagers on whether or not she can touch her shirt with her Gene Simmons tongue. I hate taking money from sore losers.
She slept in her stroller for the entire third consignment shop spree. She looked pretty ticked off when she woke up so she bought a onesie and a pair of jeans to make herself feel better.
That's last shop had a bunch of stairs and I couldn't help but comment on how no one in a wheel chair would be able to shop in their store. Rude. And they charged $50 for the cutest skirt I've ever tried on in my life. Ruder.
I had pretzels and bing cherries for dinner. And sparkling water. I'm fancy.
Thursday, July 24
Freeze You Crazy Homeless Cowboy
I was on my way to pick up baby today from daycare (yes, still hating having to take her there on days I don't have clients, but when I'm in school she'll have to be there four days and so I feel it's best to get her into a routine, which is killing me, but they pretty much make you take them three days anyway so I am and occasionally do a bit of cleaning while she's playing with her little friends, and the odd load of laundry). I drove down the alley to 4th Street. This is where my seemingly normal day turned into CHiPs, but instead of the California Highway Patrol on motorcycles I got the Covington Hoodlum Patrol in cop cars.
I saw two men walking down the sidewalk. I paused for a moment to assess whether or not they were too close for me to pull out and if the oncoming traffic from Newport would t-bone me if I tried to beat the two...let's call them "sidewalk philosophers." You know who I mean. Men who walk like they're late to an important board meeting, but who look like they're dressed for an episode of MTV's TRL Live from Spring Break Panama City. They're always yammering on about something so loud that you can hear them from inside your apartment or inside your car with the windows up and the radio on and they're always talking about 'the man'. One guy was shirtless with a cowboy hat on and the other was much shorter than he and desperately trying to keep up. Both looked a tad...hammered. It was 3 p.m. after all and I'm pretty sure that is 5 o'clock Covington time.
Right as I decided to pull out and make a go for it, a white car raced into my lane out of nowhere and pulled over. It registered with me a few seconds before that it was an unmarked police car. Why I was able to make this out when I can't spot a marked police car clocking people on the side of the highway until I'm past it is one of those little mysteries of life that will go forever unsolved, like why you can only drink a whole can of soft drink if it's poured over ice or why you still have your coupons in your hand when you're unloading the groceries into the car.
Here's where my role as Woman in Jeep Cherokee makes its debut.
A female copper jumps out of the cruiser and yells to the two men walking down the street. I hear the cowboy say to his sidekick that they should keep walking. She screams at them to STOP WHERE YOU ARE! Okay. It's like a trick. Whatever you do don't move, which of course you'll do like when you try to be quiet and instead end up knocking down everything in your wake. This guy even sneezes and she's going to riddle him with bullets. You could tell. She had that I speak cop speak thing down pat.
The cowboy tells her something and points to another shirtless dude walking across the street. She backs up and screams again DON'T YOU MOVE! I, of course, stayed right where I was. Of course, she wasn't talking to me but at this point who can keep it all straight?
He went to walk away and she yelled SIT DOWN NOW OR I'LL... and I missed that last part. Let's just pretend she said "...OR I'LL TASER YOUR ASS" which of course is interpreted as this will make the news and then I'll win a million dollars in a well-publicized lawsuit by the cowboy. The "perp" followed his orders and sat down, pulling his sidekick down with him. (Isn't that always the way?)
(I would just like to stop here and remind everyone that a few years ago when someone broke out my car window in front of THE JAIL and robbed me--I like to say burgled but it doesn't work here--of my things I called the police to file a report. After twenty minutes and no one showing up, I called back and they semi-politely asked me if I could meet them at the police station. And a few months ago when my catalytic converter was sawed off, the cop walked to my place. Glad to see they're letting them drive now. Or...am I? Guess you have to be a shirtless man in jeans hanging below your boxers to get a quick vehicular response up in this joint.)
The lady copper backed up and got on her radio. Two seconds later another cop comes speeding down the alley where it breaks across the street from where I am. She points to the other shirtless dude and the new copper jumps out and starts walking toward him with his hand on his gun.
It was at that moment I told myself...um...keep driving, dumbass.
I saw two men walking down the sidewalk. I paused for a moment to assess whether or not they were too close for me to pull out and if the oncoming traffic from Newport would t-bone me if I tried to beat the two...let's call them "sidewalk philosophers." You know who I mean. Men who walk like they're late to an important board meeting, but who look like they're dressed for an episode of MTV's TRL Live from Spring Break Panama City. They're always yammering on about something so loud that you can hear them from inside your apartment or inside your car with the windows up and the radio on and they're always talking about 'the man'. One guy was shirtless with a cowboy hat on and the other was much shorter than he and desperately trying to keep up. Both looked a tad...hammered. It was 3 p.m. after all and I'm pretty sure that is 5 o'clock Covington time.
Right as I decided to pull out and make a go for it, a white car raced into my lane out of nowhere and pulled over. It registered with me a few seconds before that it was an unmarked police car. Why I was able to make this out when I can't spot a marked police car clocking people on the side of the highway until I'm past it is one of those little mysteries of life that will go forever unsolved, like why you can only drink a whole can of soft drink if it's poured over ice or why you still have your coupons in your hand when you're unloading the groceries into the car.
Here's where my role as Woman in Jeep Cherokee makes its debut.
A female copper jumps out of the cruiser and yells to the two men walking down the street. I hear the cowboy say to his sidekick that they should keep walking. She screams at them to STOP WHERE YOU ARE! Okay. It's like a trick. Whatever you do don't move, which of course you'll do like when you try to be quiet and instead end up knocking down everything in your wake. This guy even sneezes and she's going to riddle him with bullets. You could tell. She had that I speak cop speak thing down pat.
The cowboy tells her something and points to another shirtless dude walking across the street. She backs up and screams again DON'T YOU MOVE! I, of course, stayed right where I was. Of course, she wasn't talking to me but at this point who can keep it all straight?
He went to walk away and she yelled SIT DOWN NOW OR I'LL... and I missed that last part. Let's just pretend she said "...OR I'LL TASER YOUR ASS" which of course is interpreted as this will make the news and then I'll win a million dollars in a well-publicized lawsuit by the cowboy. The "perp" followed his orders and sat down, pulling his sidekick down with him. (Isn't that always the way?)
(I would just like to stop here and remind everyone that a few years ago when someone broke out my car window in front of THE JAIL and robbed me--I like to say burgled but it doesn't work here--of my things I called the police to file a report. After twenty minutes and no one showing up, I called back and they semi-politely asked me if I could meet them at the police station. And a few months ago when my catalytic converter was sawed off, the cop walked to my place. Glad to see they're letting them drive now. Or...am I? Guess you have to be a shirtless man in jeans hanging below your boxers to get a quick vehicular response up in this joint.)
The lady copper backed up and got on her radio. Two seconds later another cop comes speeding down the alley where it breaks across the street from where I am. She points to the other shirtless dude and the new copper jumps out and starts walking toward him with his hand on his gun.
It was at that moment I told myself...um...keep driving, dumbass.
Wednesday, July 23
Very Superstitious
My mother always told me never to tell a dream before breakfast because it will come true. Some dreams I blabbed before getting out of bed just begging them to materialize, i.e., winning the lottery and buying an Hermes Birkin, meeting and smooching Michael Vartan).
Yesterday's dream I made sure to tell only after having eaten a GIGANTIC breakfast. Please. DO NOT ever come true. It was basically Red Dawn with different actors. Sadly, the Lead Male was played by my ex-husband. After a lot of gunfire and bombing, him still surviving, we decided to take refuge in a building with a bunch of other frightened people, none more frightened than me. As we were walking up the wooden bridge to the house (it was on a lake), I turned to him and said, "I'm wearing pull-ups right now but I could totally wear big girl panties if I want to. I'm this many (and held up two fingers) but I have the vocabulary of a 5-year-old."
What...the...hell...?
Yesterday's dream I made sure to tell only after having eaten a GIGANTIC breakfast. Please. DO NOT ever come true. It was basically Red Dawn with different actors. Sadly, the Lead Male was played by my ex-husband. After a lot of gunfire and bombing, him still surviving, we decided to take refuge in a building with a bunch of other frightened people, none more frightened than me. As we were walking up the wooden bridge to the house (it was on a lake), I turned to him and said, "I'm wearing pull-ups right now but I could totally wear big girl panties if I want to. I'm this many (and held up two fingers) but I have the vocabulary of a 5-year-old."
What...the...hell...?
Monday, July 21
Remember How I Said People Are Absurd?
I owe you $1.50 from the other day. I'm not supposed to be swearing. Here's $3. Keep the change.
What the HELL is wrong with people? Poor baby was so sad and sleepy Friday morning and I hauled ass in the shower (she cried the whole time I was in there) and rushed her to daycare only to have my first damn client just not show up. No call. Nothing. People. Don't do this. It's rude and makes you a real bitch. Here's another 50 cents.
What the HELL is wrong with people? Poor baby was so sad and sleepy Friday morning and I hauled ass in the shower (she cried the whole time I was in there) and rushed her to daycare only to have my first damn client just not show up. No call. Nothing. People. Don't do this. It's rude and makes you a real bitch. Here's another 50 cents.
Wednesday, July 16
Boo!
Hi. Hi. Sorry. Hi. Forgive me. Been real busy like. Real busy.
Let's see...where was I? Oh yes. Teething. That's it. Or is it? I have no freaking idea. Since this child was borned (I know it's wrong...I like to say it like that. I also like to say 'liberry' just to see who has the nerve to correct me and who knows I'm just shitting them) people have asked me if she's teething. She loves to chew on her hands. Well, here she is...11 months old and no teeth. Not a one. And when I'm able to stick a jack in her mouth to take a look...I don't even see a tooth breaking through her gums. So, lady...don't come up to me all like 'Aw...she's teething' like you know my daughter better than me. She'll get her teeth when she's damn well ready and not before, capice?
Which leads me to my next statement. I'm irritable. Still haven't had a period. Sorry, guys, and I say 'sorry, guys' as if guys actually read this. Anyway, I've been less than patient lately and for those of you who know me--and I say 'for those of you who know me' as if people who don't know me actually read this--you're probably saying to yourself...she was patient and I missed it? Drat! I have been tired, yes, but today I took baby to school this morning, which is very hard for me to do when I'm not working on Wednesdays but it's best since she'll have to be there when school starts, and felt like I could run 26.2 miles. That's a marathon, if you didn't know that. I know that because my friend runs marathons and has a 26.2 sticker in her car winduhr. Anyway, I felt very anxious. But I was rushing around to get a whole bunch of stuff done before it was time to pick her up. I did two loads of laundry. Since we've been wearing all white to work, I hadn't washed my darks in months; couldn't tell you the last time. As I was sorting the laundry I found myself saying "Hey! I forgot about this shirt!" several times. And the craziest thing is...I was able to separate the loads into basically black with a bit of grey mixed in and a different pile of red/pink/turquoise/stripedy/purple things. I didn't try to stuff it all in together. I feel like I'm growing. I did have that one odd article of clothing that has no real pile. I didn't want to wash it with the whites the other day because it's new and it has a black v-neck and I just knew it would bleed every where. So I took a chance and washed it with the blacks worrying it would be bled all over. It survived. Happy happy joy joy.
I went to pick the baby up at school and she stood up to get me when I walked in the door. I looked over to the swing I had donated to them and saw her little classmate (and by little, I mean giant for his age) folded over like an origami pterodactyl. His chest was on his lap and his arms were hanging over the edge of the swing, his knuckles dragging the ground and his face buried in his thighs. I said, "Aw...what happened to your buddy?" The teacher turned and ran over to sit him up. I kind of brushed it off but honestly, if I'd walked in to find Huddy like that I would've kicked some ass. Of course, I'd never find her like that because she hates that freaking swing like G. Dubya hates a nucular weapon. I'm happy that baby gets too much attention when she's there, but now I feel a little guilty that the boys are being ignored.
My favorite little boy there went home early with a fever of 103 degrees. Greaaaat. Huddy had a fever all weekend long. I left work early to get her to the doctor in time on Saturday. I got there at 11.58 a.m. They close at noon. The receptionist went back to ask a nurse if she could see her, but they said 'no'. "They really rush out of here on Saturdays." Hello? Didn't you take an oath or something? Rude. Looking for a new doctor now.
Maybe I am getting ready to start. I ate a whole Amy's vegan pizza when I got home and I stupidly bought a bag of Newman's Os when I went to the grocery the other day. I haven't bought them in a long time because I don't know when to say when. I had six cookies after the pizza. Nightmare. I just need to hurry up and finish them off so that they'll be gone. And my face is out of contrizzle. I can't take it. Go away, stupid zits! Bug a teenager for God sake.
I do have my loves right now. Besides my sweet sweet baby, I have Dr Pepper. (There's no period after the Dr, so don't go writing a bunch of self-righteous hate mail.) Bing cherries. They're tasting especially sweet right now. Cash Cab. I love watching these freaky New Yorkers. Some of the people in his cab are tourists, but the majority of them are lost to the world, like Brooks Hatlen, the librarian from The Shawshank Redemption. He couldn't handle being outside the prison walls and sadly took his own life. He was "institutionalized." Some of the people on Cash Cab would never survive in say...Deluth.
So, I've decided to have baby's birthday party the weekend after I start school. She'll already be a year old, but a few things have me thinking it's best to wait. I'm going to be making a vegan chocolate cake, so if your planning to drop by, you'll eat it and you'll like it.
Let's see...where was I? Oh yes. Teething. That's it. Or is it? I have no freaking idea. Since this child was borned (I know it's wrong...I like to say it like that. I also like to say 'liberry' just to see who has the nerve to correct me and who knows I'm just shitting them) people have asked me if she's teething. She loves to chew on her hands. Well, here she is...11 months old and no teeth. Not a one. And when I'm able to stick a jack in her mouth to take a look...I don't even see a tooth breaking through her gums. So, lady...don't come up to me all like 'Aw...she's teething' like you know my daughter better than me. She'll get her teeth when she's damn well ready and not before, capice?
Which leads me to my next statement. I'm irritable. Still haven't had a period. Sorry, guys, and I say 'sorry, guys' as if guys actually read this. Anyway, I've been less than patient lately and for those of you who know me--and I say 'for those of you who know me' as if people who don't know me actually read this--you're probably saying to yourself...she was patient and I missed it? Drat! I have been tired, yes, but today I took baby to school this morning, which is very hard for me to do when I'm not working on Wednesdays but it's best since she'll have to be there when school starts, and felt like I could run 26.2 miles. That's a marathon, if you didn't know that. I know that because my friend runs marathons and has a 26.2 sticker in her car winduhr. Anyway, I felt very anxious. But I was rushing around to get a whole bunch of stuff done before it was time to pick her up. I did two loads of laundry. Since we've been wearing all white to work, I hadn't washed my darks in months; couldn't tell you the last time. As I was sorting the laundry I found myself saying "Hey! I forgot about this shirt!" several times. And the craziest thing is...I was able to separate the loads into basically black with a bit of grey mixed in and a different pile of red/pink/turquoise/stripedy/purple things. I didn't try to stuff it all in together. I feel like I'm growing. I did have that one odd article of clothing that has no real pile. I didn't want to wash it with the whites the other day because it's new and it has a black v-neck and I just knew it would bleed every where. So I took a chance and washed it with the blacks worrying it would be bled all over. It survived. Happy happy joy joy.
I went to pick the baby up at school and she stood up to get me when I walked in the door. I looked over to the swing I had donated to them and saw her little classmate (and by little, I mean giant for his age) folded over like an origami pterodactyl. His chest was on his lap and his arms were hanging over the edge of the swing, his knuckles dragging the ground and his face buried in his thighs. I said, "Aw...what happened to your buddy?" The teacher turned and ran over to sit him up. I kind of brushed it off but honestly, if I'd walked in to find Huddy like that I would've kicked some ass. Of course, I'd never find her like that because she hates that freaking swing like G. Dubya hates a nucular weapon. I'm happy that baby gets too much attention when she's there, but now I feel a little guilty that the boys are being ignored.
My favorite little boy there went home early with a fever of 103 degrees. Greaaaat. Huddy had a fever all weekend long. I left work early to get her to the doctor in time on Saturday. I got there at 11.58 a.m. They close at noon. The receptionist went back to ask a nurse if she could see her, but they said 'no'. "They really rush out of here on Saturdays." Hello? Didn't you take an oath or something? Rude. Looking for a new doctor now.
Maybe I am getting ready to start. I ate a whole Amy's vegan pizza when I got home and I stupidly bought a bag of Newman's Os when I went to the grocery the other day. I haven't bought them in a long time because I don't know when to say when. I had six cookies after the pizza. Nightmare. I just need to hurry up and finish them off so that they'll be gone. And my face is out of contrizzle. I can't take it. Go away, stupid zits! Bug a teenager for God sake.
I do have my loves right now. Besides my sweet sweet baby, I have Dr Pepper. (There's no period after the Dr, so don't go writing a bunch of self-righteous hate mail.) Bing cherries. They're tasting especially sweet right now. Cash Cab. I love watching these freaky New Yorkers. Some of the people in his cab are tourists, but the majority of them are lost to the world, like Brooks Hatlen, the librarian from The Shawshank Redemption. He couldn't handle being outside the prison walls and sadly took his own life. He was "institutionalized." Some of the people on Cash Cab would never survive in say...Deluth.
So, I've decided to have baby's birthday party the weekend after I start school. She'll already be a year old, but a few things have me thinking it's best to wait. I'm going to be making a vegan chocolate cake, so if your planning to drop by, you'll eat it and you'll like it.
Tuesday, July 8
Who's The Boss?
There are a lot of bossy people in my life:
My mother. She's not bossy, but she is still entitled to tell me what to do. Most of the time...I listen to her.
My horrid bosses at work who still suck cherry pits. They have no business bossing people. There was a mistake on my form today and I asked just to double check that I didn't screw up my client's services. I said, "So, she's getting her facial next? At noon?" He yelled, "Yes. Believe me!" I said, "Well, it says right here her facial is at one o'clock, so I'll just change it to twelve...." I wanted so desperately to yell back, "Why shouldn't I believe you? Are you usually a big fat liar?" The receptionist came over and said, "Oh yeah. I was working on fixing that." Whatev. After that ridiculous note passing ordeal, I've done nothing but smile and nod whenever they tell me something for the fiftieth time, i.e., don't wrap wet towels in the sheets. I DO NOT USE WET TOWELS! *sigh*
And Hudson. She is so the boss of me. She won't let me put her down or hold her or position her anyway she hasn't fully approved before hand. She's all like "Refer to the handbook, lady" and I'm all like "Give me the Cliffs Notes."
We're tired in this house.
My mother. She's not bossy, but she is still entitled to tell me what to do. Most of the time...I listen to her.
My horrid bosses at work who still suck cherry pits. They have no business bossing people. There was a mistake on my form today and I asked just to double check that I didn't screw up my client's services. I said, "So, she's getting her facial next? At noon?" He yelled, "Yes. Believe me!" I said, "Well, it says right here her facial is at one o'clock, so I'll just change it to twelve...." I wanted so desperately to yell back, "Why shouldn't I believe you? Are you usually a big fat liar?" The receptionist came over and said, "Oh yeah. I was working on fixing that." Whatev. After that ridiculous note passing ordeal, I've done nothing but smile and nod whenever they tell me something for the fiftieth time, i.e., don't wrap wet towels in the sheets. I DO NOT USE WET TOWELS! *sigh*
And Hudson. She is so the boss of me. She won't let me put her down or hold her or position her anyway she hasn't fully approved before hand. She's all like "Refer to the handbook, lady" and I'm all like "Give me the Cliffs Notes."
We're tired in this house.
Monday, July 7
AWOL
Wow. A week has gone by and nothing even remotely exciting has happened to me. Baby is teething. That's about it. Which means...I'm exhausted and she's miserable. She cries from 8.30 p.m. to 11 p.m. and refuses to go in her crib. I give her Baby Orajel Nighttime which makes me feel horribly guilty. It evidently helps, though I feel like she's standing on a street corner waiting for it. I've decided to give up my weird anti-medication lifestyle for the sake of her poor gums. She will be 11 months old next week and she is still toothless. Good. Ness. Poor thing. She'll soon be eating birthday cake and moving on to grown up food. Let's get some choppers, alrighty? I'm thinking of making her a vegan chocolate birthday cake, so if you come to the party...you've been warned. I've surmised that when mothers eat their young...it's when they're teething.
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