it's beginning to look a lot like easter

sigh.

the seventh circle of hell

karaoke night in the mcdonald's play land. someone actually thought this was a good idea.

my transformation into the crypt keeper is apparently complete

just returned from a doctor's appointment. while the nurse took my info, i killed some time knitting. the nurse looked at what i was doing and said:

"are you making that for a grandchild?"

the love affair with worms continues

the girls just poked their heads in the back door from playing outside in the drizzle.

"want to see my worm pockets?!" asked thing one.

she had filled her rain slicker pockets with water (darn impermeable plastics), and thing two had then filled the pockets with...worms.

masses of writhing worms, some of them seeming to reach up to me with their plaintive little heads. (butts? who can tell?)

and of course, i had to do the good, modern mommy thing and say, "wow, that's really interesting - what an unusual application for your pocket" while my brain was screaming, "WORMS! AIEEEEEEE! WORMS! GET THOSE FUCKING WORMS AWAY FROM ME! MOMMY IS FUCKING FREAKED OUT BY WORMS! WOOOOOOORMS!"

they just came back in. i made sure the pockets were empty before i let them pass through the door.

"do you want to pet my worms, mom?"

oh dear god. this was not in the so, you're having a girl! brochure.

who would have guessed i'd wind up with a budding oligochaetologist?

27 excedrin should do it, i think

sheetrockers + air gun + hysterical, noise-averse 6-year-old = the bitch mother of all headaches.

my eye is twitching.

ook

a friend told me yesterday that i don't look a day over 36, and i realized that is a compliment since she shaved 9 years off my age.

when did i become the crypt keeper?

why do you hate the baby? installment no. 316

here's a name from a church bulletin, announcing the joyous arrival of...tennyson yosemite.

sigh.

dogs, people. this is why you get dogs. or cats. or hamsters. or start an indie band. you don't inflict something like this on a human being.

that kid is so changing his name to john someday.

i've never been so glad that cheetos exist

as the apotheosis of michael pollan and the whole foods movement continues, i just read an article that published recipes from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. "lessons from an older american diet," it said.

lessons like...

calf head soup

dress the head and boil until done, remove the bones from the meat, take all the meat from the upper part of the head and chop fine, and put it into the soup, with chopped potatoes and carrots, chives, pepper, salt, parsley, sweet margery, and a little butter. stir a little flour and milk together to thicken the soup. make a hash of the meat from the under jaw. take the brains from the head, beat up eggs as for an omelet, turn this over the brains after seasoning with salt and pepper. melt some butter and turn on. set it in the oven to cook slowly. skin and slice the tongue; put into a saucepan, with butter, pepper, and salt. stew dry.

oh dear sweet fancy moses. i want to go mainline some polysyllabic chemicals right now.

got a hot date with a stripper

i hate wallpaper. hate, hate, hate it.

it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

except it's october 10.

fuck me.

sibling revelry

my brother just sent my daughters matching skirts for their birthdays.

musical skirts.

musical skirts that play the macarena OVER AND OVER AND OVER.

i should have beat him up less when we were kids. or maybe more.

in memoriam

ok, now i'm really going to have nightmares

and not from reading all those vampire books - they barely register on the scary-o-meter compared to this.