A Snack for Snowflake

I wish I had lips like that.

No Wine Was Involved

I felt like it was time to update my sidebar photo with one just as dorky. It's good to know my personality hasn't changed. I like the way that I can look like a demented version of someone familiar.

Here's me as an older chubbier(I mean more substantial) Chloe Sevigny:


As Kurt Cobain's pissed off lil' seestray:


Faye Dunaway in Barfly:


Audition photo for Three's Company:

Beauty on Two and Four Legs

As I sat flipping through the May issue of Martha Stewart Living featuring two French Bulldogs lounging on a bed in a turquoise blue room on the cover in an incredibly overpriced pediatric dentist's office, a shy, fresh faced girl walked into the reception area from the inner sanctum of needles and drills and fluoride. Looking up from the plethora of plantings and dollars at work at Turkey Hill was a brand new girl, beaming, like she had just won the Miss America Pageant. Nothing was like this moment. Turkey Hill may as well have been a shit shack compared to the light coming off of this youngling.

"She did great! Doesn't she look beautiful?" her hygienist cooed to her dad or gramps about her braces being removed, giving follow up instructions. After three years she was free from the metal that wrapped her teeth in secrecy.

I stared at her, smiling as our eyes met, she blushed ever so slightly like the rosy pink middle of a buff colored tea rose.

I almost started to cry. What could be more beautiful than this simple moment. There are moments like this throughout life, but here, in this one, I felt old. Her life was just beginning. I could have been her mother, I suppose. If only I would have married that college boyfriend. What would that have been like?

Would I be so tired looking as my brother commented about me to my mother? 39 and waiting for my four year old to get his second crown. He is four! I think of life in terms of how long I legally 'have him' these days. Only 14 more years and he's off to the wild blue yonder. Four years already blurred by.

I have all of these little sweet moments I have captured in photographs. The sweet look of innocence and hope. Curiosity, mischieviousness and delight. Trust.

Trust like the look you see in all of these hopeful wide eyed pups you can pour over on Petfinder. They are hopeful that good things are to come. It never wanes or dims. Like hundreds of those before me, I say we need to be more like our dogs. Enjoy the moment of our light and never look back. Even if we're tired.


Here's to you, Miss Vickers. RIP.

Flash, Ahhhhh He'll Save Everyone of Us

On Friday I picked up my lovely and one of the teachers says something about SF having the 'uh' sound as in 'umbrella' for the 'sound bag'. She mumbled something about it being hard but 'you're so creative' we thought you could handle it. Well, we got home and there were no instructions, no sound bag to be found.

I phoned the school and the Headmistress said to find some toys and blah, blah, blah etc. put it in a bag. Has anyone ever read the dictionary? There really aren't many 'uh' sounds unless you want the whole unbelievable, uncurl, unstoppable kind of nonsense going on. Toys, what toys? I thought about hunting down a gargantuan pair of ladies undies, but thought they might mistake them for my own. I wouldn't want that. Actually, I have issues about under garments so I'll just leave it at that.

I decided to make SF some pimped out 'flashcards' and send them along with 50+ cocktail umbrellas(spikey tips of danger handsnipped away by yours truly for safety) for each classmate. They are doublesided and laminated for durability. These will then be placed neatly in a one gallon Ziploc freezer bag that reads like a marquee: Now presenting the UH sound. I traced it backwards on the other side of the bag and wrote "place this side up to a mirror to read the message". Oh yeah. Uh-huh. I think I want to start a custom flashcard biz. Or something. I think it could beat writing vibe reviews as far as cash flow goes... See what you think:


I know, SF looks so happy. This was after getting a crown this morning. He can't say his l's so it's 'umbiwicus'.








All of this time I thought uncouth meant tacky or ill mannered. Not according to my beloved and trusty 1940 Winston College Dictionary.

Hey Kids

Blogging drunk is so not cool when you're my age. It's now 6:55 am and my head is throbbing. I just took three Advil an Alka-Seltzer and a Drixoral. I wanna hurl. I apologize to my friend and Adrien Brody, whom I don't know and don't really know if I'd wanna know, you know? Hee Hee

Adrien Brody

I love you, and, well your big eff-ing nose and all that comes with it.

Anybody

...wanna go to India?

Press Here

Just Right

Junkin'

Last night, SF, Petunia and I went junkin'. Junkin' is scavenging the hurlyburly piles of debris that the denizens of this fine fair city are allowed to foist upon the curb every Spring. Send out your piss soaked mattresses piled as high as pizza pie in the sky! Scrap metal, ugly furniture and the dirtiest couches you've ever seen line the streets. Snowblowers, lawnmowers and charcoal grills catcall to you a few years too late. Here we found a whole bag of ethnic goodies that some guy said looked Mexican. I think not. They're definitely more Asian. We left them for some crafter type to find.

SF just liked saying the word junkin'.

We were looking for the cool stuff. We found it in a bin not far from the metropolis' epicenter. Glassware. Unique vases, a gigantic round goldfish bowl and a blue goblet that could serve as the wine glass of a giant. Or me when I'm feeling debaucherous. Then there was this open ended bong-like lab glass piece.


I think it cleaned up purty nice fer free.

Can You Believe

...that it only took me 14 years to finally pound in a nail head that was sticking up about one inch on my basement stairs? Always thinking of the wee one, I am.

For Maggie XOXO

Fasten your seatbelt, sister!

He's Ready for Spring

Last Friday...why'm I thinking: it's fun to stay at the Y-M-C-A.

Don't Get the Wrong Idea

I'm not really a goose person, but this one is from Italy and it's ceramic with metal feet. It was in our kitchen when i was a kid. When my parents moved on one of their numerous occasions, it ended up with me. I thought SF would like it...go back to March to see just how much.

Anyway, it was probably a Friday night and I really liked the way the hood light was bouncing off the stove and illuminating this bowl of berries from both directions. Was there wine involved? What do you think?

The Thaw

I have photos of the world that appeared outside of my window this morning. It was thick and cakey and gorgeous. I refused to shovel this beauty(read: fuck off, snow) away from my driveway. Some sweet soul blowed my sidewalks. I've been sick of the place I live and skeedaddled off to the Northwoods.

Later in the afternoon my son and I went outside to play. I dredged up the snowmobiling regalia I had helped my mother put away earlier in the week when it seemed Spring was inevitable. I met him outside where we stormed the trappings of a winter's worth of plowed driveways. It was a bastion, a mountain to be conquered and enjoyed.

"Commander! Quick, get up here before the sea creatures gnaw your ankles!" I said even though we were exploring "the moon". We slid down the slope together and fled from the Yeti.

It was a world in white. We lay on our backs and stared at La Luna in the late afternoon sky. We made snow angels and rang the big old school bell now mounted on a tall post overlooking the frozen lake. I was glad for it. Glad for the snow and for the the son and for the life I had no idea I would have. It's definitely not at all like I thought it would be. I work through it hourly.

" I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me. But it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and not try to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life. You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. Don't worry, you will someday." -Lester Burnham

Boooooooooobah

We are currently harboring four muticolored furry creatures called Boobahs. Two have names: Jingle Bell(orange) and Dingle(purple). I'm sure more will find their way to our safe haven.

I Will Remember You

Lately I've been enjoying Snowflake so much. I have entirely too much fun with him and I just can't seem to get enough. My dad commented today that I should really enjoy him because 'they grow up so fast'. I thought it was a stupid statement because I don't think there is any doubt that I enjoy him to the fullest.

I asked him if he missed that time with us as kids and he said he honestly couldn't remember. And he said it so sarcastically. Like 'don't blame me for not remembering my kids growing up.' I don't think he cares and if he does, he'd never show it. I despise Eastern European Stoicism. Fuck that.

SF is just a squishy pile of boy sweetness and in all my life I will never forget this time I am experiencing now. I am already mourning its loss. Kind of stupid, but it is so special.

Wa-Wa-Wonder Woman!

I'm really proud of myself for saving my pops $500 to redesign our website. I think he should give me the money to buy Dreamweaver so I can really make a go of it. We were going to pay someone to do it and I decided to give it a whirl. In less than a few hours, I downloaded a free template and mutated it for my own devices. I know very little html, so damn I've just gotta say, fuckin' A, you go girl! I think I wanna kiss myself.

Check it out:

Quality Homes

Zoinks!

The other night I stumbled across "Dancing with the Stars" and was seriously blown away by none other than Miss Priscilla Presley. I asked my co-worker if he had seen her lately and he commented that he did and she was beautiful.

Ho there. Wha? She looks so puffy and weird, her face actually looks like the mask from Phantom of the Opera. Yikes. Don't move or you'll crack, 'cilla.

When they showed the bit about her having her very own Psychic Hotline I could have ralphed. We're talking serious Space Alien action here, kids. She is channeling L. Ron Hubbard in a very big way.

All I Ever Wanted

When I get up in the morning and take the dogs out, the smell of diesel in the air always reminds me of Mexico.

Trendsetter

Yo. So I had this carseat three years before "Knocked Up" came out.

These Days

When I got home there was a message on my machine from Rosalie. By message I mean this: it was a four minute garbled-y static that sounded like a dog sniffing or licking at the phone.

My caller ID said she rang at 8:18AM. SHIT! I'm thinking, that's like eight hours ago. I dialed her number and it went right to voicemail. At this point I'm a little nervous. For some reason I am predisposed to thinking 'worst case scenario' these days.

I told SF I was running up the hill to check on her and told him not to answer the door. I rang her wireless doorbell and started pounding on the screendoor.

Calmly the inner door opens and she nimbles out to me. I explain my concerns.

She relates how she was driving at the time and somehow must have bumped my number. I told her I was relieved and gave her a hug. She felt so fragile and smelled so sweet. It almost made me forget about the conversation we had about her bladder.