We went to see Sweeney Todd on Christmas Day (loved it! singing, murder, and Johnny? sign me up), and afterwards, I decided that the scene of Pete and Elsie’s demise needed revising.

WARNING! Sweeney Todd quasi-spoiler ahead! (more…)

My mother sent me this yesterday — the sweetest kitty picture ever:

That’s Tom (age 16) with my mother’s two kittens, Henry and Lizzie. I must say I am jealous. Here’s what would happen if Pete and Elsie were to attempt to take a nap together: (more…)

My staff and I have been enamoured as of late with finding funny names in old censuses, and usually we consider Native American names off-limits — Crazy Sister-in-Law, for example, is just too easy — but today I found this couple, and I think the search is over:

Good Turkey and his wife, Goes on Top.

I love the internet deeply for many reasons, but here is one: the internet allows you to talk to people you used to know with minimal effort, and then they can tell you weird stuff about yourself that you have thankfully forgotten, but now remember.

Case in point: this boy I knew in middle and high school reminded me yesterday that in our 8th grade earth science class, I apparently used to talk to a stapler “as if it were a person.” You know, I could’ve lived a pretty full and happy life without that knowledge. But now that nugget of information is back and cannot be extracted, and so I have made myself a name tag that I have to wear the rest of my life that says TALKS TO STAPLERS.

Last Friday after we left the throng of Gorjuslovers at his art show,* Larry and I had dinner with some friends. We went to one of the few downtown restaurants, a newish place that shall remain nameless. However, there were some of the problems we encountered:

1. “Oh, there are four of you. We only have three menus left. There’s a party of 9 over there and they have all the menus.” I scanned the room and no one else had menus. This means that this place only had 12 menus total.

2. “Our beer selections? Um, we have one Bud Light, a couple of Budweisers, and some Michelob Ultra.” I wanted so much for Larry to say, “I’ll go with THE Bud Light.”

3. “No, there’s no merlot. It went gone gone.”

4. “Ohmygod I totally blanked and forgot to come check on you guys! I usually have a list in my head of things to do, like take the order, check on the customer, you know, fill water glasses, that kind of stuff, you know how it is, y’all have probably done this before, and, like, then I realized that I hadn’t been by in awhile!” This stream of narcotic-inspired conversation went on for several more minutes while I pretended to study my shoes.

In other news, I officially had a pregnancy craving this morning. Many of you know my aversion to all things egg-related.** I don’t like the way they smell, I don’t like their consistency, I don’t like the way they stick to the pan and then flake off after Larry makes scrambled eggs…I’m shuddering here. Anyway, this morning I made myself an omelet. AND I ATE IT. I fear what’s next: pickles, olives, mustard, wing sauce, and chili cheese Fritos, if the baby is following the Banned for Life food list.

*Which was packed, by the way. Gorjus thought six people were going to show up; I think it was more like 600.
**French toast = the meanest thing you can do to a piece of bread.

1. Apparently you people are not that interested in bizarre holiday duets, or else you’re playing coy with me. While I wish with all my heart that Celine Dion and Elvis Costello would sing any kind of carol together, or heck, even a toilet paper commercial, it was actually the indigestion-inspiring combo meal of Chris Isaak and Stevie Nicks Santa Clausing it that I heard. Her part was pretty small; she mostly kept her Parkinson’s to herself except for a few moments of harmony. BUT STILL.

2. Has anyone read The Emperor’s Children by Claire Messud? I’m about a hundred pages into it and like it so far, but Claire Messud? You need to reassess your use of commas. Had I gotten the book from the library, I would’ve shut it and never returned from these, sentences numbers five and six of the entire book:

Her dangling fan earrings clanked at her neck as she leaned in to kiss each of them, Danielle too, and although she held her cigarette, in its mother-of-pearl holder, at arm’s length, its smoke wafted between them and brought tears to Danielle’s eyes. Danielle didn’t wipe them, for fear of disturbing her makeup.

Sure, I guess technically these commas aren’t incorrect, but jeezum crow, Knopf editors. You’re killing me here!

3. I would like to write a treatise on maternity clothes, specifically why in the HELL maternity clothes designers think that when a woman is pregnant, the #1 clothing detail she wants is ruching. Dudes. Everything has fucking ruching! And if it’s not ruched, it’s v-neck. And if by some miracle it’s ruch- and v-neck-free, then it has flowy Stevie Nicks sleeves (just a note: Stevie Nicks insults me on many levels, ears and eyes). I may just go the Christina Aguilera route if the ruche trend continues.

4. Top Model: I could not be happier that stanky Bianker is gone. I think the girls left are pretty slim pickins, but my guess is that Chantal will win, even if she has a wonky eye. Or it might be Saleisha, although that Tootiecut has got to go. Jenah will not win, although she should be commended for making it this far with that nasty weave. Next week: season finale!

5. Project Runway: My love for Christian deepens each week. I think I giggle every time he’s on screen. I just love his carefully sculpted hair and the way I keep thinking he’s a girl at first. I also, despite my better judgment, like Sweet P (not SWT PEE). Also, I hope that all of you able-to-drink-alcohol types have seen Liz’s Project Runway drinking game. It’s hilariously spot-on.

So Larry ran the marathon on Saturday, and did not die after all! That stretcher I rented came in handy, however, as I got sleepy at the finish line waiting for him. Actually, some dude did need a stretcher, and others were wheeled away in wheelchairs, and others were weeping as they leaned on Official Marathon Personnel and were escorted away. Larry was a trooper, though, and not only finished in under four hours, but was still walking around at 9:00 that night! Go Larry!

In completely unrelated news, here is a brief quiz.

What bizarre Christmas duet did I hear on the radio this morning? (No internet cheating, jerks!)

a. Celine Dion and Elvis Costello singing “The First Noel”
b. Charlotte Church and the ghost of Bing Crosby singing “Adeste Fidelis”
c. Mick Jagger and Barbra Streisand singing “Silver Bells”
d. Chris Isaak and Stevie Nicks singing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”

Vanity tag du jour:

IM ON2U

Today we are headed to Memphis so that Larry can run his first marathon tomorrow! I have rented a stretcher and will be waiting at the finish line.

Aw, man, I forgot to post today. It seems that I was way more devoted to writing every day when it was self-imposed. Interesting.

In other news, did you know I am cursed with remembering only the birthdays of people I knew 15-20 years ago? Happy birthday to the boy I dated for one month in 1989 today!

And happy birthday to my high school boyfriend’s brother tomorrow.

I had a dream the other night that the previous owner of my baby (don’t ask, dream logic) named her Lyn Fag.

I’m sure it’s just me, but whenever I hear the announcer say Samantha Who? I think he’s saying Samantha Hu.

Also, I am almost done catching up on ye olde* tivo, and I have to say that Project Runway could not be more awesome, the end of Grey’s Anatomy with Seth Green’s blood spattering all over the place made Larry laugh hysterically and ask, “Is this a comedy?”, and I have a feeling that the winner of Top Model is going to severely disappoint me this year, as I hate most of those bitches and there’s no way Heather will win if she can’t speak.

*Did you know this is pronounced “the old”? I know. So disappointing.

I am so not writing this from the future. It’s Sunday evening and I am glad to be home. I’m also glad that my mother bought some sombrero ornaments that I will later put on Pete’s head, but mostly I am glad to be home.

Because I am writing this from the future, I hope that the following things happen today:

–we take a carload of books and cds to Half Price Books and get an amazing $85 IN CASH for our discards
–we go to Ikea armed with two $10 off coupons and emerge with three bags of stuff for UNDER SIX DOLLARS
–we watch my brother eat 9 dinner rolls, and with one of them in his hand, listen to him tell us about how he has given up white bread.

Here’s hoping!

Happy day after Thanksgiving! Because I am writing this from the future, I hope I find a really cute jacket to wear to my cousin’s wedding in a few weeks, and I hope my mother buys it for me. I also hope I get to eat at Taco Bueno. Here’s hoping!

Happy Thanksgiving! Because I am totally writing this from the future, I hope I will not eat so much that I spend the rest of the day rolling around and moaning. I also hope my mother’s dinner guests will not be exceptionally boring and will not discuss one subject each at length (him: antique cars; her: her ailing father). Here’s hoping!