Friday, March 23, 2012
My hunger for diet cola is palpable. I find myself daydreaming of hearing a can snap open and the salty foam slowly seaping out. I can taste the caramel coloring coat and melt crackling ice cubes that scrape against my slowly staining teeth so I can quickly ingest what my brain is screaming for me to do. Today will be a testament to the logical argument that my self-control is lacking.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
This week, I was able to ring in Tristan's 12th birthday, and I can't help but experience the dichotomy that is him. On one hand, he is the same good hearted, sweet, fairly hyper, inquisitive, expressive, intelligent platinum blonde kid he was when he was two, and I believe born. On the other hand, he is TWELVE. Like, officially a pre-teen, questions directives, and is a hell of a lot smarter than most kids twice his age. With every blink of an eye, another birthday cake rolls out. This one was designed while he was at a movie, but he chose all ingredients. Carrot cake mix, Halloween Diabetes flavored orange colored icing, crystal sigar sprinkles, hard bone shaped candies covered in blood, and Oreo's special confetti icing filled cookies to ring in their 100th anniversary. Sound good? Then I may have not explained it well enough...
I have decided to make you a birthday salad, birthday man!!!
I know you are picky about ingredients, so I wanted to be up front with you about it so we didn't have to beg you or argue with you later. It will be glorious!
The Birthday Boy Recipe! A salad fit for birthday kings....
You start with one pound of radicchio lettuce. you hard boil some eggs and wave them around the lettuce so the aroma of body odors permeates the sliced leaves. You flash fry cow brains, so they start to ooze but stay a cool mush in the middle. Chop finely and add to lettuce. Then, of course, you throw in 35 whole and raw garlic cloves, strips of ghost chili peppers raw, fish eyes if possible, and if not, canned sardines will suffice. And the dressing? A little bit of local ground dirt, for texture. Some Cool Whip, Miracle Whip, and the liquid from a jar of green olives purreed, sauteed and then fermented for a good week before mixing all together.
His reply: "Haha that is very funny."
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Did I mention that said Diet Cola is the only source of caffeine I indulge in? That makes a world of difference, doesn't it? I have left you before, and I will do it again. I will work on not dancing clumsily on the line of dehydration. I will likely go through some withdrawal, as I have in the past. I may lightly caress your fingers and suavely remove them from around a bottle of soda and lean in close to you. I may sip from your bottle hungrily. By the time you realize your bottle is lighter, I will be gone.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Charleen: "Tim, I didn't know you were coming!"
Tim M.: (shrugs) "Meh. It's not like I had anything better to do."
Tim M.: "No, it's not like that! It came out wrong. What I meant was that nothing else was going on anyway. You know what I mean."
Friday, March 16, 2012
That man could charm the pants off a.... uhhh... a deaf and naked homeless man who can't read lips?
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Me: "Hi! How are you? Did you get the mail yet today?"
Mom: "What? I can't hear you at all. And no, I didn't get the mail yet today."
Me: "Ah, okay. Did you get a yellow and blue envelope addressed to me at all from this weekend?"
Mom: "Speak up or text me. I didn't get the mail yet today."
Me: "Okay fine."
Mom: "What is yellow and blue that you are getting?"
Me: "I thought you couldn't hear me."
Mom: "What? I can't hear you."
Me: "This is fun. I will call you later."
Mom: "What? You're not going to tell me what I will see later? How about I call you when I get the mail later? Just tell me what it is."
Me: "A surprise. I will call you later."
Mom: "Okay, call me later. I can't hear you."
Two things were going through my head. The first? My mother is under the impression that she is going deaf. And also, is ninety two years old. The second? She really misuses the term, 'I can't hear you.'
Monday, March 12, 2012
I should also refrain from saying that I thought he was a few years older. But really, Poppy, you don't look a day under 82.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
If only there were a way to know when my morning was going to be painful, my night would make it worthwhile...
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
I found this article where the very fortunate Tom Rhodes was able to travel to Bisbee, Arizona and experienced an untouched vintage trailer park. I can't say I am normally jealous of such a find, but today, absolutely.
Also, I wanted to say that Ashna Rodjan, the photographer, is so incredible it made my point and shoot pointer finger quiver just a bit.
Friday, March 2, 2012
I wish I could say two things to the former me. The person who had a thousand really important materialistic priorities and an astonishing amount of discretionary income to indulge in them. The first thing I would like to say is, "Put it down. Whatever it is, it will mean nothing to you shortly. Walk away fast, speed walking can only help." The second, "Where are you getting all of this money, and will you share it with me?!"
I can still see my twelve year old self walking to the town Beauty Supply Shop with my best friend, Lisa, where we would buy every shade of nail polish they had. I had drawers of it. I had a near death experience when I was doing my nails in my room which my mother forbid me from doing. Then I spilled acetone all down the from of my tall white lacquered wooden dresser and as the nail polish remover made my paranoid mother completely justified, my heart sank.
At 15, my bag obsession started. All gifts and potential gifts coming my way were of a singular mind: PURSES! And I can justify something like nobody's business! How many times a month can you wear the same shirt? I can wear a purse 28 to 31 days a month, respectively. When friends would get a cute $20 bag, I was getting oversized diaper bag from Nordstrom and had no money left for all of the excessive clothing everyone else had. But, hey. I could carry the shit out of other people's tee shirts.
At 17, I fell in love with the DVD. And we all know how that turned out. A small home in a quaint beach side community later, I lived happily every after. Or, I bought a thousand DVD's, watched a third of them, and ran out of space to store or display anything else in my life.
I envy those around me who have a few cute picture frames, a table they love, and a closet full of clothes they could pile into two suitcases if need be. I have a house filled with stuff, and I can wake up one day, I have woken up many a day, thinking, "This means nothing to me." So, the new couches come tomorrow. And for the first time in what feels like a miniature eternity, I am excited about a decoration or addition coming in to my house. It is somehow comforting to know that life is maybe more cyclical that dead ended. And that maybe I'm still the same person I always was, just with more dust collectors and a lot less dollars.