Okay, seriously, I had no idea it had been almost a month, I was afraid to come here and check how long it had been. Although my aunt tells my mother to bug me to post something and then I am reminded pretty much every day that I've abandoned the thing I love to do most.
You know that commercial for some kind of feel-good medicine (Prozac, Wellbutrin, Xanax?) that is a cartoon where the girl is walking around with an umbrella and there is a rain cloud following her around? And nobody else? That cloud jumped out of my tv set and is stalking me. I would call in a restraining order but I'm already trying to get one for the men who live in the alley behind my house in an illegal RV hooked up to an abandoned building, and I bet the police get suspicious of people trying to get more than one restraining order at a time.
A huge mutt lives on the dashboard of the RV and I would feel sorry for it if it wasn't let out to roam around free and scare the sh#$ out of toddlers and their mothers (meaning me). I don't think these people are dangerous (minus the dog) because they look like the RV was on its way to Woodstock in the 60s and the whole lot of them seem confused that it's 2010. Sort of like on LOST when they get transported back in time, except unfortunately none of the RV inhabitants look like Sawyer. Besides, everybody knows hippies aren't violent. (Was Charles Manson a hippie? If so disregard and I will go lock my doors.)
I have suggested (very politely) they keep their dog on a leash since it's so big and scary and all. This was met by a very direct statement that seemed hard to argue with on a moment's notice: "The dog isn't leash-trained." I didn't know there was a big training process to get a dog on a leash. I thought you bought a dog a collar, then bought a leash and hooked up the little circle thing on the collar to the little hook on the leash and that was that. But what do I know? I don't own a dog. Also, the guy was drinking a Bud Light out of a can at 11:00 am and I learned many moons ago not to mess with a man drinking Bud Light before noon. (This reminds me -- I will take a photo of said RV tomorrow with dog lounging on the dash and post asap. I bet you don't believe me...)
Cooking update: I have not crock-potted in months. That's okay. I pretended to like it more than I really did. I sort of felt like the girls did when they peed on the potty. Okay, I can do this! I proved it! Now give me back my diapers (read here give me back my take-out menus).
In other news, I set out a plastic bag full of diapers on our deck one night until I had a chance to drop them off in our dumpster. I bet you didn't know this, but rats like toddler dung. This was news to those of us who believed the movie Ratatouille was somewhat realistic. Imagine my surprise when after the girls fell asleep I went out to dispose of the bag and IT WAS MOVING. And a rat popped out. One's love of the city is truly tested when one is faced with a rat gnawing on fresh baby feces. Alas, we didn't move to the suburbs yet. Although -- and I just thought of this -- maybe I should leave the next one on the RV doorstep as a "message." Sort of like the bloody horse head in the bed in The Godfather but this will be easier to obtain albeit perhaps less intimidating. Not to mention I like horses.
I've been so afraid nobody will read this anymore because I am now completely unreliable, and, well, there's been nothing to read. (I did lose two followers in the interim -- QUITTERS!!!) I used to lay awake and think of tons of things I wanted to write about -- and would get up before I forgot, loving every minute. I used to find everyday things that happened hilarious. Sadly, I couldn't even find humor in Kate Gosselin walking around the DWTS dance floor as though Judge Carrie had shot her ass up with horse tranquilizers and trying to pass it off as a cha-cha. (Seriously, I imagined Kate as a war hostage, knowing you were going to die a horrible death and begging the guard on duty to shoot you in the head and save you additional misery. Thank god the voters took mercy.) Although I did snicker when Pam Anderson (who looked like she was starring in that movie where the kid pretends to be African American so he could get into college -- when will they fire the DWTS spray tanning team?) was voted off prematurely; nothing pleases me more than a slut being brought down a notch or two. Unless it's me.
Thank you for your comments and e-mails -- I haven't checked my blog e-mails in a while because the thought I'm not writing scares the hell out of me. If you will forgive me while I try to remember how to do this (but might not be funny at it) I promise to post at least once per week. Plus, did you see the new Bachelorette starts later this month? If that doesn't make me get my sense of humor back, nothing will. (Ed and Jillian are still dating. Can you believe that? They live in my city and there have been sightings. I know where they hang out. If I had something to wear I might show up and ask them what the hell is going on and get Jillian so drunk -- which she would probably already be -- that she'd give me Reid's phone number.)
Cheers people!
PS -- I have some Prozac samples that expired in 2005 (don't ask why although you should know that I don't think you should ever say no to drug samples when offered) that I am thinking of popping. I mean, do meds really expire? And what does that mean exactly? Expire like you might die right then and there upon swallowing one? Expire like it might not work? (Big deal, you're no worse off.) Or expire meaning the drug company didn't want to get sued should a mom in her 40s who suddenly lost her sense of humor decide to take 5 instead of 2 just in case the potency died down over the five years its been sitting idly under a counter? This is hypothetical --- please don't send an ambulance to my house if you know me. That will just piss me off even more.
PSS -- My "PS" was not a cry for help. If I take any, it will be only one. Two tops. I mean, maybe three but nobody died from taking three expired pills. Relax.
PSSS -- Did I used to use so many parentheses? God, I'm annoying. Also, the font looks different -- I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO WORK MY OWN BLOG ANYMORE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!!!
I'm still here... :-)
ReplyDeleteBtw, if I went out on my deck and saw my garbage bag moving I would have hightailed it back inside screaming. Then I would have sat with my feet up on the sofa hoping the rats didn't find a way into my apartment.
Because I'm mature like that.
Also, expired Prozac sounds like a disaster waiting to happen...Though, turning on the tv lately constantly reminds me of those doomsday horror movies that predict the end of the world.
Maybe expired Prozac isn't the worst thing ever.
OhthankGodyou'reback.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you're back. I was beginning to worry that you'd given up the blog all together, but I'm not one to judge. i'll go months without a post then do 3 in one day.
ReplyDeleteYou don't have to promise us anything, chickey poo. Or at least me. I'll be here, waiting patiently, regardless.
ReplyDeleteI totally get this. The commercial, the feelings of wanting to write but not being able to for sheer lack of 'oomf' and, most importantly, the Sawyer reference (yowza). I have 2 blogs.... one I write in when I feel clever and witty... another I write in when I don't. It would be so much easier to combine the two but I fear people would think I'm bipolar. Perhaps it's the weather but my 'funny' blog... well it's not so funny these days.
My friend is a pharmacist, she says expired pills will just become ineffective, but won't harm a person. She says vitamins (I think I've heard of those... says the girl with scurvy) actually become bad (ie gross) when expired but meds are usually okay. I have acne medication from high school some 14-odd years ago that I'm still tempted to take from time to time (I thought I was supposed to grow out of my awkward phase?!?).
People who don't leash their dogs irk me. Rats are frightening. Poop is gross.
That is all. Except to say I think you're awesome and miss you when you're not around. But, fear not, you couldn't loose me if you tried (insert diabolical laughter here)
PS (because you shouldn't get to be the only one ps-ing)... thanks for being so honest. It makes me feel so much better to know I'm not the only one who sometimes feels like that. I used to think it made me a lesser person... but, lately, I've been discovering it seems to happen to all the cool, smart, funny (hot) kids. Sometimes I think it's merely the price we have to pay for being so wonderful. And no, I'm not coceited. I'm sarcastic. But also kind of not. I'm an enigma... wrapped in bacon.
ReplyDeleteWelcome back. I can relate in so many ways. I blame our age, dropping levels of progesterone and toddler hell. Perimenopause and potty training are a dangerous combination.
ReplyDeleteYou've been missed. Hope you can find your funny and feel better soon.
so glad you're back...
ReplyDeleteThe other day I thought about how I hadn't read you in a while. I thought there was something wrong with my google reader.
ReplyDeleteGlad you're back. And glad my google reader is working.
Yay! I wouldn't abandon you! I just kept checking and there it was this morning!
ReplyDeleteFirst, are you for sure certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that one of the girls didn't shit a rat and you just missed it?
ReplyDeleteSecondly, I'm so glad you're back because I missed you AND I am so tired of looking at Suri Cruise everyday when I come looking for you.
PLEASE take a picture of your alley neighbors. I need something to make me feel relatively normal.
I'm still here too.
ReplyDeleteAnd BTW, I loves me some Prozac and I'm not afraid to admit it. Expired or not. So there.
I am so glad that you are back!
ReplyDeleteFor me it's like you never left. I visit once a month and feel like it's Christmas morning if there are more than one posts to read.
ReplyDeleteThat sounds kind of harsh. It's not meant to. I love reading your stuff so much it's like Tivo. I need to have a couple of episodes saved up on my list. It's like that expired Prozac... just happy to know it's still there.