Category: Daily

The tree in the photo below didn’t have berries in 2014.
He didn’t have berries in 2015.
He now has berries.

Don’t correct me if I’m wrong, but I think he has berries because he’s been having tree sex with THIS little lady who lives on the other side of the garage.

The only reason I suspect copulation is because she has NEVER had this MANY berries. It’s like they’re just passing berries back and forth all willy nilly and while I certainly don’t mind, I think this tree does.

Why does she mind? Because SHE is fresh berry guy’s WIFE! She’s planted less than four feet away from him, and come on! She’s not blind. She sees what’s going on here. (We ALL see what’s going on here.)

Because it’s only November 3rd and I’m already struggling for things to talk about, let me share the following with you (again). It’s Meredith and her friend playing Trees. (Of course.)

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One week from today we will (hopefully) know who the next President of the United States will be.

It doesn’t matter who wins. (It really does matter. It does! Holy crap. Yes.)

Everything is going to be okay. (I hope everything will be okay. Dear God, please make everything be okay.)

Here. Wait. As long as I know that this place exists, everything will be okay.

It combines two of my favorite things and I’ve never been there and I have no idea how it works. Question: Because I focus on veggie sushi, would I have to eat a bunch of rice and asparagus wrapped in a seaweed tortilla? (I don’t want to know the answer to that question. Everything is going to be okay.)

As long as the Half Crocked Chef keeps serving up honey flights, everything will be okay.

I went to Springfield last weekend to visit my sister. She took me to Half Crocked Chef, and I fell in LOVE. I now have a jar of their raw honey with fresh bee pollen and a jar of Hawaiian Hot Honey, which is raw honey infused with Hawaiian hot peppers, li hing mui, Hawaiian sea salt, and pineapple. I hate that my life is halfway over and I’m just now eating Half Crocked Chef honey. BUT, everything will be okay.

As long as Violence, Tobacco, and Inhalants can still chill with Cocaine, LSD, and Marijuana to the tune of Total Eclipse of the Heart on a stage in an elementary school gymnasium, everything will be okay.

“I don’t know what to do and I’m always in the dark! We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks!”
But it’s going to be okay. Hopefully.
It will.
Vote. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

While Jeff took Harper and her friends around the neighborhood, Meredith and I sat on the steps and handed out candy to the 50ish kids who gadded about on Halloween.

Our cauldron (because we have a cauldron) was filled with Smarties and Tootsie Pop Drops and M&M’s [sic] and a bunch of shabby crap that we grabbed on the cheap. After a few toddlers stopped by and turned their noses up at our offerings, I ran to the pantry and grabbed twenty or so bags of fruit snacks to add to the pot.

The fruit snacks went fast.

Me: I think I want to try something.

Meredith: What?

Me: Let’s see if anyone will take the mac and cheese.

At that point, we stopped handing out the candy and allowed each visitor to reach into the cauldron (because we have a cauldron) and take what they wanted. Ten minutes later, the mac and cheese was gone. (The young boy who took it (a middle schooler named Zach) was Very Excited.)

Me: Let’s step it up a notch.

Meredith: What’s next?

Ramen.

I was surprised to learn that not many kids even recognized the Ramen.

Spiderman Kid: What’s that?

Me: Noodles!

Meredith: That’s the good stuff!

Spiderman Kid used his (really weak) spider sense and went for the final bag of fruit snacks.

Twenty minutes later, a group of girls came by dressed as characters that I didn’t understand.

Unrecognizable #4: RAMEN! I’M TAKING THE RAMEN!

Yes.

Me: We are currently one step away from a tiny can of tomato paste.

Meredith: What goes before the tomato paste?

Me: Can of Soup.

Meredith: No one wants Can of Soup.

She was right. Can of Soup turned up his charm, put his best face forward, and prayed for a brief pillow case journey to someone else’s home. Sadly, he was consistently cast aside in favor of Dubble Bubbles, WarHeads, and even an unwrapped Tiger Pop, which happens to be the worst lollipop ever made.

Can of Soup, born under an evil star, is once again shelved—his potential unrealized.

Last night as you were sleeping, hackers broke into my website and replaced my main page with an ad for something about UFOs. (I probably was not sleeping, as I maxed out my Candy Crush lives three times when I should have been sawing the logs. Candy Crush. I am not proud.) Anyway, because the world is such an unpredictable place, we may as well get this NaBloPoMo gig started a day early, don’t you think?

Also: I have jury duty tomorrow for the first time in my life. If there has been a murder (or something similarly electrifying) and I am chosen to serve, voted foreperson of the jury because I’m wearing red Mary Janes, and then sequestered until Christmas or beyond, please know that my mind may be in that courtroom but my heart is with you. It’s always with you.

And we’re off.

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Did I watch all three presidential debates IN THEIR ENTIRETY?

I did.

Did I reward myself for this beefy feat by making a shirt?

I did.

(Enthusiasm for Such A Nasty Woman will soon die down and the phrase will inevitably be filed somewhere between Eat My Shorts and Where’s The Beef. Until that happens? I’ll be over here voting.)

NaBloPoMo will be kicking off one week from today and I’m already releasing myself from it if it does not serve me and I’m forgiving myself for failing. Yoga and Jesus, my friends. Yoga and Jesus. (That might be my next shirt.)

I’m still pinballing within the bowels of despair about not being able to see mountains in my distance. (My worst grade in high school was my drama grade.) We’ve been back from Colorado much longer than we were IN Colorado, and I like to believe that a part of me broke off there and is currently eating a caprese sandwich and looking forward to a late night breezy cardigan and clog walk. (We should sit around sometime and talk about our parallel lives and where our other selves are hanging out. I have so much to say about this. It fills my daydreams every single day which means I am definitely not living in the present and I apparently need even more Yoga and Jesus.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The second eight-week session of my yoga class started up last night and the teacher pushed me (figuratively, obviously) and I hated myself and then I loved myself and then it was time for shavasana and she put the following music in and tears hopped out of my ducts and dripped off of my ears onto the mat.

Please step out of the room before you start rolling your eyes at the music because I really can’t handle emotional invalidation right now. (You and I are still friends, but please know that *I* don’t roll my eyes at *you* when you’re feeling brittle. Also, walk a mile in my shoes and everyone is struggling with something you don’t really know about. Okay, then. I forgive you. Let’s hug. No. Not like that. Like this.)

Speaking of my shoes, tomorrow these will be arriving and sometimes I feel weird that new shoes are so invigorating for me, but also? I’m tired of feeling weird, so screw it. New shoes!

I have plans for these shoes and those plans involve adventures!

Speaking of adventures (and strained segues), we went to Colorado for four days last week. Some people spend their days dreaming of their next trip to the ocean. For me, the ocean is beautiful, but the mountains are Everything. (With a capital E!) Mountains are enchanting and unachievable and strengthening and everyone looks foxy with a mountain in their background.

(Not Completely Convincing Yet Completely Unfiltered) Proof:

Check it. You might not be able to see the mountains, but you can definitely smell my libidinousness. I’m windblown! I’ve licked my lips so much that all traces of Carmex have vanished! I want to make out with a tree!

(Here are just a few of my coniferous boyfriends.)

As soon as I saw this Aspen, I knew I wanted to be inside of it.

Here I am getting down to clown with a monumental statue (pun weak, but totally intended), and I didn’t even catch his name.

I have so many things I could tell you about this trip. I found a new favorite beer. I smelled marijuana. (I SMELLED it. Shut up!) I touched snow. I was able to spend some time with one of my very favorite people and we focused on Aspirations instead of Remember Whens and I hitched my wagon to a star and Dear Lord I Love Colorado.

Family photo taken inside Red Rocks Amphitheater, where the dazzling beams of contentment inside my head escaped and bounced all around us:

And now we’re back and I’m feeling more than a bit crestfallen. BUT, it is better to have admired mountains and returned home than never to have drunk a sour beer at all.

Also, I bought new socks.

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So I guess that whole “Hey! Maybe I’ll write every day in October!” thing didn’t really work out for us, did it?

Since last we spoke, I worked and I ate sushi and I drank coffee and I watched CNN. I’ve been knitting a tunic. I bought an anorak jacket, so I felt the need to do a bit of research on the word anorak. I signed on for the next yoga session. I bought tickets to see The Lumineers, but only because Andrew Bird and Margaret Glaspy are opening for them.

The girls are currently on fall break for ten days. We signed Harper up to get braces on Monday. We signed up to see some mountains before the end of the week. I’ll sneak in a haircut between now and then.

I learned something about myself about an hour ago, and that is this: I am not opposed to wearing an item of clothing called Jeggings, but only if the attached paper tag contains the word Sculpt. I am an adult.

Harper is currently at the mall. Meredith and Jeff are out looking at a Fender Stratocaster. I’m watching CNN because I’m drawn to goat rodeos, and tomorrow’s debate (if it happens) is happening in my town! My lip busted open a few minutes ago and I’m currently tasting blood and I’m wondering if it has anything to do with the despicable waves of negative energy. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Twice in the past week, I’ve run across a medical question for which the answer is “Insert a fist into the vagina.” Granted, I’m working on a maternal health freelance project, but still! Twice in one week! What could it mean?! (I know what it *actually* means. It’s fairly self-explanatory with a fist and a vagina. I’m talking about *cosmic* meaning.)

I took Harper to the orthodontist on Tuesday and it’s time for braces! The financial side of this is a bit bothersome (!!!), but was made slightly less painful when I learned that the orthodontist feels the same way I do about Dave Eggers. Heroes of the Frontier? Not so great. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius? Great, if read at a time when it hits you as great. Timing is everything. Always. Always! (Don’t get me started on Hugh Everett and/or astral projection. Unless you WANT to get me started, Mick Jagger.)

This morning I drove 20 miles south for a flu shot, and I’m afraid it gave me a bit of meningitis. (I’m probably exaggerating.) When I go hard core with heavy medical freelance deadlines, I tend to up my impressionability levels (which are shockingly high even when I’m NOT going hard core with heavy medical freelance deadlines). This afternoon I’ll be working on a chapter about spinal cord injuries, which I think means we need to invest in some bubble wrap.

My family has a big case of the Let’s Get The Hell Out Of Heres. Luckily, the girls have a ten day fall break coming up. All I want to do is lie on the grass and look at a mountain. Bonus if it’s capped with snow. Double bonus if I’m drinking something warm. Triple bonus? Cardigan and no one is crabby and maybe a sandwich or beer float is coming my way.

Wait. Do I need this? And when I say need, what I really mean is want. (I’m pretty sure my answer is Yes.)

While I’ve got you here, let me toss a few more photos at you to prove that I exist!

My yoga buddy knows that I’ve filled our kitchen window with creamers, even though I really hate the word creamer. Because of her kindness, I now have a dachshund in the window!

And because Tempe knows where the cool kids buy their shirts, I now have a Barb shirt!

And because Chip sleeps like this on my side of the bed, I’m not getting more than 2-3 hours of sleep at a time.

The makeup app I was using in my most recent post? It doesn’t work on dogs, but it works on creepy doll photos.

Fun fact: The first movie I saw at a drive-in was Westworld when I was four years old, and I really need to see it again.

Now go and enjoy your weekend. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

On September 19 I celebrated my 15 year anniversary at Fluid Pudding. Oh, but let’s get something clear. A quinceañera, there was not. In fact, I didn’t even realize that it was the anniversary until the anniversary date had passed. No parades. No cake. No “Oh, the places we’ve been” post.

I *did* downloaded a free makeup app on the 19th. It’s called MakeupPlus and it started off innocently enough, as most things do. (Brows! Lashes! Weird shade of pink on my lips!)

It didn’t take long for me to peek over the edge of Mount Going Too Far.

Long story shortened: Here I am with a beard.

Also, I drank a drink for the first time in two and a half years over the weekend. The following photo is a huge exaggeration.

(Reality: I don’t believe I finished half of the bottle, and I drank it out of what Meredith called “a Jesus glass,” because we are Team Lord’s Supper 24/7 around here.)

On Tuesday night, my yoga partner and I decided to skip yoga in favor of supporting local businesses. In other words: Out for drinks at VB Chocolate Bar, which is about a ten minute drive from my house!

This is an ice cream float made with homemade salted caramel ice cream and O’Fallon Vanilla Pumpkin Beer. (I had two, because I tend to lose control when I’m skipping yoga and shooting breezes.)

Let’s see. What else? Jeff and I went to a Tuesday morning showing of the latest Blair Witch! (Wait a second. Is that a PERSON in what I thought was an empty photo?! Who IS that?! Could it be THE BLAIR WITCH?!?!?!)

((It’s not the Blair Witch.))
As you can probably imagine, the theater was not crowded.

I’ve signed on (nothing was actually signed) for NaBloPoMo in November, but would you rather I do it in October? You tell me. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Disappointing: Finding out that three students from your girls’ middle school brought BB guns into the building today, which was also the day of the active shooter drill. (Let me repeat that. Today was the active shooter drill, where the following announcement is made to the students: “Attention. Attention. This is an active shooter drill. Take immediate action. Lockdown. Lockdown. Lockdown. Again, this is a drill. Please assume your lockdown positions.”) As I was sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee and writing e-mails, my kids were pretending that a shooter was in the building, while three POTENTIAL shooters WERE in the building. (With BB guns. I know.)

Also Disappointing: Our school probably won’t make the BB gun kids go through “three minutes alone in a small room with some of the meaner parents whose kids go to that middle school” as a punishment. Also, there will be no Shirley Jackson “The Lottery” reenactment with the BB gun kids playing the role of Tessie Hutchinson.

Clarification: I’m the least violent person you sort of know. I don’t really buy into the eye for an eye thing. Not a big fan of the death penalty. This morning I spent 45 minutes trying to coax a fly out of an open window because he seemed slow and I wanted him to get some fresh air.

Jeff: Did they taze the offenders?
Me: I’m sort of hoping they shot them in the kneecaps with their own BB guns. (But not really. But sort of.)

I don’t want to talk about it anymore.

As of last night, my Yoga for a Happy Life class is halfway over. And that’s just fine because sometimes it feels more like Twister than yoga. “Get into a low lunge with your left leg back. Now lift that back leg.” (Try it. It’s impossible. Also impossible? My ability to not laugh when asked to do something like lifting my back leg when I’m in a low lunge.)

This is happening right now.

This was finished while watching CNN and drinking coffee this morning.

This is next.

I need to come around here more often. By the way, the fly DID make it out the window. (Some of you were wondering. I just know it.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>