Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Little Do He Know…

ernie travel

I am unofficially on vacation.  Officially it begins Friday.  However,  I’m calling in tomorrow morning so that we can get a head start on the 12+ hour drive to Lincoln County.  And by “we”  I mean me and the sweet doofus and the three sweet feline doofuses and the bitchy old granny lady.  Aggie’s staying home.  Sometimes it pays to have a social anxiety disorder.  I’m thinking about cultivating one myself.  Of course, after what’s about to go down tomorrow in the AM, I’m afraid we’re all gonna be certifiable. 

So, I’ll leave y’all with that.  I’ll see some of you in a day or so.  Others, I’ll probably be in touch with via the text message and the Facebook.   Plus, I’m finally breaking down and getting a mobile with the internet.  I’m having my new Palm Pixi Plus sent to Mama and Daddy’s.  It should be waiting on me when I get there.  Ahhhh, sookie-sookie now. 

Monday, September 27, 2010

Happy Birthday John!

john 001-1 To my one and only.  My sweetheart doofus of a man. 

Sunday, September 26, 2010

This weekend I went to Savers and found a pair of purple corduroy culottes for five bucks. Then today I found a dress at Target marked down to ten. This is all well and good, only I don't really have the money to spend on those types of things even though everyone knows I did it anyway. As a result, we're having oyster stew for supper rather than the lobster and truffles we'd normally be shoveling in.

I cleaned out the fridge a few minutes ago and I'm feeling a bit queasy. *Note to self: if you leave green beans in the refrigerator for more than four weeks they'll become reallyreally green beans.

What I'm reading: The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton and still trudging through Boneshaker.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The Lenster's back home and we're so giddy that we had to go out to dinner to celebrate. That's just how we operate. He's a happy baby and we told him he could sleep with us and Bea tonight. Usually we keep the bedroom door closed at night or else we'll wake up at 1am with one of them doing the polka on our faces. We keep night time special for the old granny lady. Not tonight though. Tonight is for toothless baby boy-o's.

Monday, September 20, 2010

I’ll Chew His Food If I Have To

iPhone 4 Photos 549

Some pussy cats just have bad teeth.  It’s not their fault.  And it’s not their people’s fault.  It’s more or less the fault of their trifling ass birth parents and their no count genetics.  John took  Lenny- the best baby boy-o in the world- to Dr. Norris this morning to have the Lenster’s teeth cleaned.    We were hoping he’d be okay to come home tonight, but they had to remove six teeth (!!!) and he was still really groggy when we called this evening to check on him, so Lenny’s spending the night at the kitty hospital.   He’s always had stank breath, but he’s never had any problem chewing so far as we could tell.  And he’s only two years old, not really the age you’d expect for such terrible tooth troubles.  I had just started noticing that whenever I’d scratch his chin in certain areas, he’d do an almost involuntary chatter.  Like nerves were jumping.  So I pried his mouth open and took a look inside and sure enough, red puffy gums.   Dr. Norris has assured us that he’ll be better than ever now.  I said, “Lookit, lady!  This is my precious baby boy-o and if you don’t make him well I’m gonna strike down upon you like the hand of God!”.  Not really.  I didn’t say that.  In fact, I wasn’t even there.  Instead, John told her, “This one’s Jan’s favorite.  Try not to kill him, okay?”.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

We've been watching the crap out of some movies lately. This weekend John and I together watched The Secret Life Of Bees and Burn After Reading. I cried so much during Bees that I gave myself the snubs. Tonight I watched Precious and The Squid and the Whale. Though they're completely and totally different movies, I thought it was kind of interesting that they're both set in the same time period, the same year as a matter of fact, in the same city. I had not planned this, it just happened that those are the two that got shipped to me via netflix. The older I've gotten, the less tolerance I have for asshole characters in movies. I understand it's just a damn movie, but I can never seem to fully comprehend how no one ever sat the asshole down and explained to them that they're being an asshole and if they'd just stop all of their assholery then everyone would stop hating them and their life would be a lot peachier. It probably wouldn't have worked for Precious' mom. But I have a feeling that that whole family in the Squid would've greatly benefited from being called on their shit. This is the same reason I can't watch television anymore. Because I'm forever screaming, "Why doesn't someone stop him?!? He's got a family/friends/co-workers! Why don't they tell him to knock it off?". For anyone reading this out there, if you know me in real life and you feel I'm being a straight up tool, then by all means, intervene. Please. It might hurt my feelings but I'll definitely take that shit to heart.

Story About A Bag

travelongreenA few weeks ago, if you’ll recall, John “accidentally” broke the strap of my pocketbook and I was mildly devastated.   I’d been carrying that thing across my body for like two years.  Bought it at TJ Maxx for $10 and it’s everything I need in a bag.  It’s got all those nifty little compartments and since I tend to fly a lot, it’s a cinch getting to my ID and credit cards and all that jazz.  Anyway, since that hateful incident with the car door and John’s super human strength, I’ve been using a safety pin to hold it together.  Yesterday, we drove to Webster, MA for the sole purpose of eating at Friendly's – a fine New England institution and home of the Fishamajig and the Fribble.   We ate burgers and a Whoopie Pie sundae and as we’re strolling through the parking lot I notice a new consignment store has opened next door.  Here’s where it gets good.   I’m browsing and quickly figuring out that there are no books and little kitsch and so I’m probably wasting my time when, BAM!  My pocketbook falls to the floor.  I pick it up and sure enough, the safety pin has popped open.  This is the first time this has happened and I’m thinking damn, now it’s gonna happen from now on and I’m gonna tear my old bag up piercing it with new pin holes and eventually it’s just gonna tear and I’ll have to break down and buy a new one.  So I head over to the pocketbook section and I’m sure you can guess what I found.  Brand new.  With tags.  For $4.  The same damn bag.  Only the new one’s green and my old one was purple.  Seriously, you can’t make this crap up.  It’s like the time my friend Lynn found a scarf that was hand-knitted in Iceland for $3 at the Goodwill.  This was like two weeks after she had just gotten back home from her vacation in Iceland and she said everything costs about a jillion dollars over there and she refused to pay $75  for a scarf. 

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Ernie The Nesto



Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Before I forget-  for those of you who aren’t yet privy to this information, just so’s you know, you can buy The Avett Brothers album I and Love and You on Amazon for FIVE DOLLARS !  That’s the sort of stuff that makes me silly happy as the brothers Avett are particularly talented and lovely to look at and they’re also from my neck of the woods.  Well, my original neck of the woods.  The northern Carolina woods.  I told John, “I just downloaded an Avett Brothers album for five freakin’ dollars!” and he said, “What are the Abbot Brothers?”.  So I made him listen and he liked them but then he wanted to know why they didn’t have accents like mine.  So we argued over that for a while and later that day we were watching The Andy Griffith Show and discussing how we should’ve named the cats after Mayberry characters (Juaneeter, Floyd, Helen Crump and Rafe Hollister) and he had the nerve to tell me that I sound just like Ernest T. Bass.  Someday I’ll youtube a video of the sigh and eye twitch that I have created expressly for those types of comments.  It’s like Frank Costanza’s “Serenity now!” mantra.  Only less loud. 

What I’ve watched:  The Young Victoria and Whip-It.  Loved both. 

Monday, September 13, 2010

I take back everything I said about my four and half foot tall physical therapy chick, Lily. Because today I learned that she knows how to ring a chicken's neck. Any girl who can kill her own food is someone I want on my side. Because if worse comes to worse and we find ourselves facing end-of-civilization type circumstances, I'm gonna be fucked. There's no way I could kill a chicken and there's no way John could do it unless he accidentally tripped over it. So I'm either gonna have to depend on my fat, domesticated cats or get all buddy-buddy with tiny-Lily. The chicken choker.

What I'm reading: The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane by Katherine Howe. It's very, very good. In fact, I'm about to go shower and take said book to bed with me. John's gone to his first Dart-Ball game of the season. I'm home alone. It's so quiet I could weep with joy. I love him to death, but a girl needs a quiet house every now and again. Today I took a picture of goose poop in the parking lot at work and texted it to him with the oh so clever caption "Holy goose shit, Batman!!!". Three exclamation points, mind you. And he texted me back, "Goober?" which is what my mama calls peanuts. And upon closer inspection, it did indeed look like a peanut as much as it did goose poop. But before I could reply he texted me again, "Don't eat it, ok?". And I laughed like hell until I realized that he's to blame for my increasingly high-brow sense of humour.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Mason, Kendall and Cooper.
Yesterday was Tyler's christening. It was a lovely, symbolic service. The priest had everyone bless the baby and explained all of the rituals in detail. It was all superstitious in a way that only Catholics and voodoo practitioners can properly exhibit and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

John is Steve's godfather and I look like I should be representing the lollipop guild in this picture. One has nothing to do with the other. John's dad was Lithuanian and they're notoriously tall people.

Afterwards, Mike took us all out to eat and Kendall provided the entertainment by waving hi and bye at everyone and displaying all around general cuteness.

Today, we've been invited to a cook-out and I'm currently in the process of making this:

Death By Chocolate

I plan on drinking beer and trying to stay awake. I went to bed at 6:30 last night, woke up at nine to drag my sorry ass to the couch where I promptly fell back to sleep. John woke me up at eleven and made me go back into the bedroom, where I stayed until 7:30am. I'm trying to make up for Friday nights cluster-fuck of excruciatingly pain-filled sleep. How bad did I hurt? Real effin' bad. Like, crying and waking up John to have him rub my back and shoulders bad. All that night I moved from the bed to the floor to the divan back to the bed back to the divan where Ernie sat on my face and kneaded my crotch. Guess what cat? It ain't that kind of party. He's been very kind through all of this. John, not Ernie. A real sport, that giant goober of mine is.

walking kendall through church