Have you ever tried dog food? Come-on.............Own up!! I did. I was probably around 8 years old at the time. Now your turn... Oh, and feel free to admit to the consumption of any other questionable substances. At first I was thinking of other pet foods, but why limit this confessional? ;)
On an unrelated note, my current favorite medical magazine, is now the Journal of Hand Therapy. I'm definitely ranked "13 year old boy" when it comes to maturity.
1.) Arriving in London to find him waiting for me with a "blogger" shirt on and a dozen pink roses in his hand. 2.) Texting me while bike riding in a forest and sending me a *woody kiss.* (his words) 3.) Making out with me on a mostly empty train ride in NYC. (New Yorkers can handle a little steamy-ness.) 4.) Every time he says *just* what I was about to say. 5.) Attempting to lay a kiss on my Mom's cheek and landing on her lips instead. 6.) Farting on my hand while we're saying goodbye in the airport parking lot of the JFK airport. 7.) Making out in the rain in the middle of a (not busy) street in Bath. He got soaked, as he'd loaned the foolish American-in-England his parka. 8.) Every time random people strike up conversations with us. This happens regularly in the BBFK/Lever world. 9.) Giving (correct) directions to 3 different, inquiring people in NYC, having been in the country a full 5 hours. 10.) Falling asleep while conversing with me on the phone last night. And *yes* he snores.
K. Gotta pack up. I'm off to wreak havoc...er....adventure on Long Island. Be back soon. *kiss* Play amongst yourselves...
I'm in *that* sort of mood. I just literally spilled some milk and thought, "ah, that felt refreshing on my foot." *laughing at self...* I managed to escape work unscathed today. At the end, it was like someone released a rottweiler into a small den of cats. I just gathered my belongings, slunk out as quietly as possible, and left the ladies to stew in their own self-loathing that gets reflected in their bitch-ass behavior. Today's observation, as I walked down the treacherous walk between my work and Noel's school, was that the cops around these here parts are particularly useless. I've had dealings with them several times now, but were they around when an SUV hit Noel and I as we strolled down the street?(No); were they present when an SUV was inches away from my body as I walked across the pedestrian walk? (NO!); and finally were they present as 2, mind you-two cars!!, drove in the wrong direction down the one way street yesterday? Um, yeah, the cop was practically flirting with the ladies, judging by the glances exxhanged...I guess that would be why he did NOTHING about it. Bleah to that. I'm sure he'll be around to throw tickets on parked cars tomorrow, though.
Let me just start by saying that I'm happy. I had an amazing time away from work for most of last week, and I'm in love in a way that I thought was only possible for highschoolers (not jaded 30-somethings). I've had several publications come out or be accepted for publication in the last 3 weeks, and had quality time with my siblings for several days. (Yes I am aware that I'm supposed to dislike that; I never said that I'm not strange.)
But I still *don't* like it when......
In quick succession, I arrive home and sift through my mail to find an exorbitant bank fee and a credit card bill that is growing faster than the dandelions in my yard. Then, the doorbell rings to reveal a young man trying to foist some educational books off on me, for his internship which he describes as a "personal growth experience", directly followed by the next door lady handing me a catalogue of candle knick-knacks she's trying to sell (complete with the guilt trip that she faithfully watches my daughter when I need her to). Swallow *that* within a 10 minute period. It was a hard pill...need I spell it out? *I'm f*cking poor, people! I'm a single Mom living in an expensive town. I skimp on things like paying for TV service, for gods sake!* On a happy note, the DVD player that was also broken by a not-to-be-named-sweetie-pie-3-year-old within that same 10 minute time period, was disassembled and put into working order by lil' ole' me, tonight. *sigh of relief* I was about to chalk it up to 2 downed DVD players in one year (she managed to take out the portable one a couple months ago.)
Then this morning, while I was escorting the very big, hairy, black spider out of my house that Noel pointed out (imagine a yell: "Mom! There's an ant!!!"...Ok, she at least got the insect part right) my fire alarm went off. I mean WTF! I wasn't even cooking anything, much less lighting fires....
The last clustering to report weighs heavier than the others, but is way less fun to write about. Just the typical overburdened writer-girl scenario. I've gotten loaded up with too many manuscripts that have the same deadline, concurrent with other little projects that manage to usurp way more time than you'd think possible. See I'm drooling just writing about it. I need to stop before I get everyone's keyboards wet... ;)
Yeah, and stop I will. I can’t BELIEVE I’m forsaking quality time with my Harry Potter book for blogging! That's a change in priorities that I never would have predicted. I definitely need blog-a-holics anonymous, it’s confirmed.
OK, just to be thorough, I thought I'd give you the final report for the day. I *did* in fact, accomplish what I had set out to do. 'Course now is the time that I sheepishly admit that I fell asleep during the conference call (see previous post). That's right. That call with 5 medical doctors, a client, and 2 co-workers scheduled from 8:30 to 10:30pm. I walked Noel 2 godzillion times (and yes that is an accurate count) around the loop on my street in order to keep her entertained and induce sleep, while on my cell listening in on the conference. Well, at the 2 godzillionth lap minus one, I decided I needed to stop. And no, Noel's eyes were still not *even* droopy. So I gently placed the phone on the counter, put Noel in bed, gently picked up the phone again, and laid in bed with her. That was the last thing that I remembered. I woke up at 10:34pm to a dead phone. I guess the batteries went...hopefully *before* I started snoring. Can't wait to suss out if they noticed anything odd during the call, tomorrow...
I didn't let it end there. Once I was conscience enough, I decided that some gluing was in order. You see, my sis-my beautiful, wonderful little sister-is getting married on Saturday and I'm in charge of making the veil. But man, being a perfectionist, gluing trim to veil material can really make you sweat (especially when it's 2000 degrees in my apartment already....do you like how scientific I am with my numbers tonight? No units, no sig figs...) So there I was half-naked gluing...do you remember those shirts that were "naked" versions of all different sports? I think naked gluing could be the new rage, aye?
1.) Boy Insight: I recently learned that when my friend thinks, "Oh, I wonder what this girl from my past is up to now...", he does a google *image* search, in case they swtitched to a porn star career path. Nice...he's an optimist. Most people assume that old flames bulged out and wrinkled up as they hit their metabolism-wall and rounded their upper thirties....
2.) Sales mentality: In an effort to get me to buy matching underwear, a sales clerk pulled out all the stops. She wasn't thwarted by "I don't wear thongs." No. She then pitched the ole', "This is a great starter thong!" idea. Wha? There are *trainer* thongs? Is this like a trainer bra or those rubber spoons and forks babies use when they first start eating solid food? Oh, and I love the idea that you could be hooked on wearing thongs. "This one will get you started, but then you won't be able to stop! Your whole way of life will soon change..."
3.) The first thing out of the lips of my babe this morning was, "I'm making a muscle!", as she put her arm in the air and flexed..er...well, I'm assuming there was flexing. It's hard to tell on a 3-yr-old. I was still impressed. ;)
It was a classic moment between us. We had been shoe shopping, partially in further preparation for my sister's wedding and in part because that it what you do every season change when you have a growing 3-year-old. So after accomplishing our white shoes and new sandal purchase, we started hiking it out of the store. I wasn't surprised when the escalator coming into view caused Noel almost to convulse with excitement over the possibilities. I knew the happiness that a little ride would bring, so although it was a detour, we set off for the escalator. I hopped on, and apparently didn't have a solid grip on her little hand, because she wasn't with me in the continual downward movement. I called for her and she donned a trepidations look and refused. As I had gone 8 feet down at this point, I started running up the escalor (*sarcasm*a fun exercise in futility) and got within inches, but managed to grab her doll, and not her. I kept cajoling her to jump on, meanwhile. Two more failed attempts at swiping her later and a line behind Noel, and I was getting *very* frustrated. A nice black woman finally took her hand and remedied the situation. 'Course we immediately had to get on the "up" escalator. *blood pressure raises just remembering* Right. That first escalator ride only happened because why? I needed a new spatula in the kitchen appliance section or a new push-up bra in the downstairs section of the department store. Um, NO!!