This morning I went to my annual gynecological appointment where I was pleasantly reminded that if you don’t have a cervix, you don’t need a Pap smear! High five!
After a quick talk with my doctor about how 45 can really suck with the eyebrows falling out and the hair thinning and the tiredness and the fibroid cyst mumbo jumbo, I pulled my pants up and headed over to the closest grocery store where I purchased a pound of Honeycrisp apples for $1.99 and all of the supplies to make pumpkin balls because I’m ADDICTED to pumpkin balls. (I was afraid of Medjool dates until last week. Now they’re my best friends.)
I’ll tell you what we’re having on Thursday, and you tell me what we’re missing: Lemon cranberry scones (They seem like a good idea.)
Corn bread dressing
Green bean casserole
Rolls or something or other
Mashed sweet potatoes
Mashed regular potatoes with some sort of gravy
Some sort of roasted vegetables or Brussels sprouts or something maybe
Big dinner salad
Cranberry salad (This was always my favorite until I threw it up a few years ago. Now I eat it responsibly.)
Pumpkin pie
Apple pie
(Yes, there will be turkey. I don’t want to talk about it.)
Meredith is convinced that we need appetizers. Do we? Maybe some sort of weird dip? What are you having that I should be having? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
This morning we saw the second part of Mockingjay and then we were supposed to meet Jeff for pizza, but the pizza place didn’t open until 4:00 and no one was hungry anyway so I got cranky and sent the three of them home and then I went to the pet store for dog snacks and while I was there the veterinarian fainted and an ambulance came and because of the chaos, the guy at the register gave me 20% off of my dog treats.
Also, I watched a tiny puppy trying on a parka and all of my crankiness went away.
This afternoon we put together a huge clothing donation for a truck that will be at the house at 7:00 tomorrow morning.
This evening we went to the pizza place that didn’t open until 4:00.
I had a salad. (I mostly ignored the clumps of cheese, but went to town on the pine nuts. Pine Nut Town. It’s a town with zero age-related macular degeneration. High energy. Low heart disease.)
This evening at 5:45, we dropped Harper off at one of those bouncy places for a birthday party. From there, Jeff, Meredith, and I went out for dinner and to Barnes & Noble for their Vinyl Day celebration. (Meredith’s into vinyl these days.)
At 7:45, we picked Harper up and it occurred to me that I hadn’t yet stopped by Fluid Pudding.
That’s when I took this photo. (I was sitting in the dark car while Jeff went inside for Harp. I had gone inside the party location for the 5:45 drop off, and all of the moms and kids and rubber and pizza smells made me want to sit in the corner and eat my own hair. I couldn’t handle going back in for the chaos of finding coats and shoes. Plus, Meredith told me that she thinks people might not like me when I’m wearing my Bernie for President shirt, and I was wearing my Bernie for President shirt.)
In about ten minutes I’ll be kicking off a 4,000 step walk to keep my Fitbit happy and then I’ll be reading because my list of books to read is growing entirely too long and I’m just not reading enough these days.
Tomorrow? A morning movie, an afternoon pizza, and an evening of cleaning bathrooms. (After the bathrooms are clean, no one can use them until Thursday. I’m hosting Thanksgiving, and I’m not screwing around over here, people.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
Henry received a lavender bath last night and as a result, he now calms and freshens every room he enters. (I once attended an online essential oil party during which someone mentioned that lavender oil can help cure cancer. I immediately grabbed my virtual coat off of the virtual bed and left the party because I’ve known entirely too many people who have gone through chemo and radiation because of cancer, and here I sit with a ten dollar bottle of lavender oil that COULD HAVE FIXED EVERYTHING?! Hhhhhhhh. Just stop it.)
I was playing with my flex pen a few minutes ago and it exploded and I got ink all over my hands but instead of freaking out, I wrote down the best sentence I’ve read in the past week.
Sadly, after writing the sentence down, I realized that it should begin with “He’s dead NOW…” but you get the idea. I have so many sentences underlined in books and jotted down on paper and I think my next creative project will be to write my favorite sentences on 3×5 cards and frame them. (Marie-Helene Bertino is very quotable. Another one of my favorites is “Just because your mother is dead doesn’t give you the right to suck.”)
I hope your Friday evening is a good one. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
This morning I woke up with the deepest cheek pillow wrinkle you’ve ever seen, and I know I don’t drink enough water so I take full responsibility for the depth of the wrinkle. (It’s hard to blame a pillow wrinkle on someone else.)
I decided to head to the grocery store after Harper got on the bus, so my plan was to do whatever sort of dance it took to keep the right side of my face (the pillow wrinkle side) out of sight. (Life is full of exciting challenges.)
Because I banked a few reward coffees at Starbucks, I decided to cash one in before going to the store. (I have much more patience when it comes to scoping out unsweetened coconut and Medjool dates if I have a latte in my hand. (I’m slowly becoming the person I hoped I would never become. Please know that I’m wearing my running costume today, too. I ran once in the past year, and that’s because a snake crossed my path.))
Anyway, while in line at Starbucks, I tried my best to position the right side of my pillow-scarred face away from the other customers. Everything was going well until the guy behind me dropped his wallet, and his credit cards (along with a strange cup he brought with him) went flying. I rolled my eyes (I can’t control them sometimes) and then turned around to help him out.
As he thanked me, I noticed that HE DIDN’T HAVE HANDS.
And THAT’S when I started feeling like a jerk about my lame pillow wrinkle dance.
I found my coconut and dates, and I’ll be making pumpkin energy balls later this afternoon.
Also, I’m drinking lots of fluids and am thinking about having the word Perspective tattooed onto the back of my hand. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
At 2:45 in the morning I was listening to the rain, trying to remember when I last ate either Swiss cheese or an Oreo, and taking photos of my tongue. You might think that sounds strange, but I am willing to bet that if I provided some context you would nod your head and admit that under similar circumstances you would have done the same exact thing.
Yesterday morning I treated myself to 30 minutes of reading and oatmeal at Panera. Seated at the booth facing me was a guy in his early 20s. (Although we were facing each other, it wasn’t awkward because he was hiding behind his laptop and I was hiding behind John Irving.) When I got up to leave, he got up to leave. I headed straight over to the grocery store where I saw the same guy in the produce section (near the avocados, if you need specifics). Because this particular grocery store didn’t meet my high expectations when it comes to sweet potatoes (I have standards!), I checked out and headed to the grocery store across the street WHERE I SAW THE GUY AGAIN! THIS TIME IN THE COOKIE AISLE!
My first thought? “This guy is following me, and either he’s not very good or else my eyes are too peeled to be followed by undercover agents!” My second thought? “Oh dear God, what if something strange is happening in my brain and I’m actually following HIM?! What is the definition of transient global amnesia?!”
I started walking to the cash registers in a zigzag pattern, because I believe that’s what you’re supposed to do when being chased by an alligator.
I’m pleased to report that the guy was not in my family room when I got home, and I’m also 93% sure that he had nothing to do with my late night rainy tongue photo shoot, although I admit that I’m afraid to look too closely for his face in the background of my photos. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
Last week I walked away from church with a page full of sentences that guided me through the week.
This week I walked away from church before the sermon even started because I was aggravated with one of my kids* and I needed to clear my head so I stomped out to the car, put Fiona Apple on shuffle, and drove to Panera for a hibiscus tea. While there, I watched a woman who was clearly suffering from dementia ripping up bagels and throwing the pieces into the parking lot as her family watched her from inside the restaurant. I really wanted to buy a bagel and join her because she looked like she needed a friend, but I didn’t want Jeff and the girls to walk out of church and not have a way home. So, I returned to church where I gave everyone the silent treatment when they climbed into the car because I knew I was probably meant to be ripping up bagels. (Sometimes I’m more 16 than 45, and nobody suffers more than me when I’m acting like an asshole.)
(If you don’t feel like listening to the entire song, just start it at 1:47 and go through 2:10. That’s the part that never fails to move me.)
We went to Costco, where I got some Pyrex bowls, power greens, and long-sleeved shirts to wear under t-shirts.
I baked a sweet potato and ate it for lunch.
I took a peppermint mocha to a friend and watched her baby walking around the room and making snorfle faces, and it lowered my blood pressure and I forgave myself for my moody episode from this morning and now I’m thinking I need to make a casserole or hug my dogs or something to strengthen my core.
*I’m having a hard time finding balance between letting my kids be their own people (they tend to make good decisions and they’re smart and they honestly don’t need much guidance) and gently forcing them to do the things I think they need to do because I did them when I was a kid (piano lessons, being active in the church youth group**, writing in a journal).
**I have mostly good memories from my childhood church youth group. Sure, I felt weird when one of my Sunday school teachers encouraged me to cancel the friendships with my Catholic friends because they’ll never make it to Heaven, but the majority of my experiences were good ones. My youth group friends were the most supportive friends I had, even though I didn’t really speak to most of them because it was easier to look at my shoes than to look anyone in the eye. The church we attend now seems to be designed especially for our family, and I’m trying my best to be patient as the girls figure out a path.
Another weekend is over. The highlight from this weekend was having lunch in Ferguson where I complimented a woman’s shoes (sparkly boots) and fifteen minutes later a woman came over to our table and complimented my hair. Kindness traveled in a circle and it’s once again my turn. Ferguson is not a scary place. It’s a place where you can eat lima beans and baby carrots with other people who like lima beans and baby carrots. (And if you DON’T like lima beans and baby carrots, you sure as hell better stay away from me, and you know that I’m joking, right? (Mostly. I feel pretty strongly about vegetables.))
The girls and I hung green lights on the outside of the house this week for Veterans Day and then I read an article saying that the idiots with the green lights should probably shift their focus to fight for better healthcare benefits for our veterans instead of buying into capitalistic schmuckery. I’m the first to admit that I need to concentrate on being more attentive, but I also believe that people with good hearts need to keep on trucking with their good hearts because we need more good hearts. Don’t give up the fight, good-hearted people! Hang your lights, but keep reading. Give money to the Salvation Army if you want, but also call local shelters and see if they need anything. You will never please everyone, so concentrate on helping where you can and pleasing the folks who might be needing something. A kid somewhere out there will be needing a coat in the next few weeks. He doesn’t care where the coat comes from, and he doesn’t care that you gave money to Big Light Bulb in order to hang weird green lights on your house for Veterans Day.
We don’t dance.
Well, we don’t dance unless we’re at someone else’s house and they’ve stepped out and we’re feeding a cat and Meredith is figuring out how to create gif files.
