So this weekend, I did absolutely nothing constructive. Ok, well I sort of did. I made a bunch of progress on a present for a Certain max Somebody max that reads this thing. I spent a bunch of money that I didn't really need to spend and I spent all day Sunday hanging out with my kid.
OH! Kiddo and I found the last bit of Max's Halloween costume. A gently used London Fog trenchcoat that doesn't smell like death or cat pee!! For only 20 bucks!! I love Top Drawer!! Now I just need a knit cap and the ability to say "fuck" every third word and our costumes are complete.
Yes, we're doing a "couples" costume. No, I will not be going to work in the costume (although I wish I could because it'll be the most comfortable costume EVER.) No, I'm not going trick-or-fucking-treating. Yes, we're going to a Halloween party. (Two, actually)
So...hmph. I'm completely justified in dressing up. Now be quiet.
Actually, I'm sort of excited/weirded out about it because my dear, wonderful, over-achieving boyfriend has decided that we're not just dressing as Jay & Silent Bob (oh, by the way - that's our costume, keep up people) we're going as Jay & Silent Bob.
"What's the difference??"
"Well, if we're dressing as them, we're just wearing the outfits, but we still act like ourselves. If we're GOING as them, then we have to act like Jay and Silent Bob all night."
"Going...definitely going. Otherwise, what's the point??"
"O..K. You realize this means I have to curse all night - "
"No problem"
" - yes, but - it also means you have to be SILENT all night."
"....I'll do my best."
So yeah - I get to wear sweats and a t-shirt and curse like a motherfucking sailor all night, whereas Max has to wear a trenchcoat and shut the hell up all night.
Now, let me tell you something about Max. He's, well....he's talkative. He could totally pull off Thoughtful Bob, Quiet Bob, Wow-He-Doesn't-Talk-Much-Does-He Bob...noooo problem. Silent Bob? Um. I think he'll do admirably for a while.
Of course, on my side, the whole Jay act? Oh boy. I'm not a shy flower when it comes to cursing, but a Jay-level of profanity? Um...hm...I'll see what I can do. Of course, the main reason why I'm Jay is because Max is the only one of us that can successfully grow a beard. Otherwise? I'd have no problems being the quiet guy in the overcoat. In fact, that may be next year's costume. I'll be a flasher. Just stalk around in an overcoat and look pervy. Heh.
Also, Max looks kind of like Kevin Smith. Which, I think we can all agree...is hot.
So yeah...Halloween. Fuck.
In that vein - Fucking Halloween - the God.DAMN. candy bowls are out in full force...motherfuckin' shit. Damn chocolate on every damn desk. arg. The Season of Eating is upon us.
Look, co-workers and such, do me a favor. Jolly Ranchers. OK? I can't stand 'em. I only eat them in a pinch. Stop with the chocolate and the mini Heath bars (quiet Jane) and the fun-sized Snickers and...
Motherfucker, now I'm hungry. Dammit.
Dude,I totally sprained something reaching for this entry. And can you believe that the blogger dictionary doesn't have "fuck" in it? What the hell...who put THAT word list together? Have they never READ a journal before?
There are cookies in the fridge calling my name. Y'all have a good night.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Um...
| Your Hair Should Be Orange |
 Expressive, deep, and one of a kind. You pull off "weird" well - hardly anyone notices. |
Found the link to the quiz on Ms. Laura-Flea's diary. (Hi!!)
And me? With orange hair? Um..no. I have so much yellow in my skin tones that I'd look like a reverse Oompa-Loompa.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Beware of Me
Dear co-workers,
Unless you are carrying a latte, or wearing a shirt cleverly fashioned of ibuprofen and chocolate, do not approach me. I'm not sure I'd even call me if I were you. (that sentence...OW) Send me your requests in e-mail. Just trust me on this one.
I have a headache that feels like an evil gnome is in my head, desperately trying to escape via my right eyeball. I am SO. VERY. SLEEPY. that during the NPR report on narcolepsy this morning, I totally got all hypochondriac on my ass. (For the record, no I am not now, nor have I ever been narcoleptic.) I am in the middle of switching meds and?? I am on the rag.
You people have been warned.
Pass the Tylenol,
Laura
Unless you are carrying a latte, or wearing a shirt cleverly fashioned of ibuprofen and chocolate, do not approach me. I'm not sure I'd even call me if I were you. (that sentence...OW) Send me your requests in e-mail. Just trust me on this one.
I have a headache that feels like an evil gnome is in my head, desperately trying to escape via my right eyeball. I am SO. VERY. SLEEPY. that during the NPR report on narcolepsy this morning, I totally got all hypochondriac on my ass. (For the record, no I am not now, nor have I ever been narcoleptic.) I am in the middle of switching meds and?? I am on the rag.
You people have been warned.
Pass the Tylenol,
Laura
Saturday, October 15, 2005
fuck it
BFF was in town for a little while yesterday, and we had lunch and got to do some talking and piddling around town. She asked if I'd been scrapbooking, and of course I answered NO, because I haven't done anything more creative than pair fish with red wine lately. Anyway....she suggested I do a "First Year of Independence" type scrapbook. Which is a grand idea and all, but the idea just depressed me, because I really don't feel as if I've done anything terribly independent and free this year. But I decided to do a little inventory.
Over the past year, I've..I've...cried and drunk a lot of wine. I've let my house get really really messy and then I've cleaned it and then I've let it get messy again. I've found my clutter threshold and I'm currently living way above it, courtesy of my child. I've figured out how to keep my bathrooms clean. I've found out how to get red wine stains out of apartment-beige carpet.
I picked up a guy by stealing a martini glass from a bar. I learned how to brush a guy off without being rude. I got told "the timing is just wrong". I got attached to somebody thoroughly unsuitable. I hooked up with Max.
I threw a housewarming party where I drank entirely too much wine and threw up in front of my mother. I planned a wedding shower. I watched my best friend get married in the most beautiful ceremony ever. I rode in the parade at the Luling Watermelon Thump. I drove to Nebraska and met Jane. I went to a whole lot of live music, including ACL. I fell asleep at a party and then got sung to by two of Max's friends, accompanied by guitar and didgiridoo*.
I stopped reading, and beading and knitting and scrapbooking. I bought my first pack of cigarettes. I drank too much, then didn't drink at all, now I drink a little. I'm working on starting any one of the other things.
I've learned things. I've learned that it can take $150/month to keep a 970 square foot apartment at 83 degrees if it's 102 outside and you have a west-facing window. I've learned that I've forgotten all of my Algebra and Geometry and just can NOT help my daughter with her homework. But that it's OK, because I'm learning that she's smarter than me anyway. I've learned that I really should own a drill. I learned to pay my bills on time and I've sort of learned to budget. Maybe in my second year of independence, I'll learn to save. heh.
I spent last night very unhappy. This post is the tail end of a rant, where I talked about how much pain I've been in lately and how I don't understand why I'm still feeling that way. I didn't post it last night, I'm still not entirely sure why. Instead I saved it and revisited it today, where I copied and pasted and refined what you see above. It's still hard over here and I still don't know why. Something that people don't understand about depression is that reminding yourself of all the good things in your life doesn't automatically make it better. In fact, the perverse nature of the disease means that at times, the reminders can make one feel worse. It's bizarre, but true. So - posting these things didn't automatically solve the problems but maybe I can remind myself that I've made progress over the year and that it's a slow deal. It's an evolution. One day I'll get it right. If I've come this far in one year, just think how far I'll have traveled in five!! Heh. Pour me another glass of Malbec please.
*I have no fucking clue how to spell that.
Over the past year, I've..I've...cried and drunk a lot of wine. I've let my house get really really messy and then I've cleaned it and then I've let it get messy again. I've found my clutter threshold and I'm currently living way above it, courtesy of my child. I've figured out how to keep my bathrooms clean. I've found out how to get red wine stains out of apartment-beige carpet.
I picked up a guy by stealing a martini glass from a bar. I learned how to brush a guy off without being rude. I got told "the timing is just wrong". I got attached to somebody thoroughly unsuitable. I hooked up with Max.
I threw a housewarming party where I drank entirely too much wine and threw up in front of my mother. I planned a wedding shower. I watched my best friend get married in the most beautiful ceremony ever. I rode in the parade at the Luling Watermelon Thump. I drove to Nebraska and met Jane. I went to a whole lot of live music, including ACL. I fell asleep at a party and then got sung to by two of Max's friends, accompanied by guitar and didgiridoo*.
I stopped reading, and beading and knitting and scrapbooking. I bought my first pack of cigarettes. I drank too much, then didn't drink at all, now I drink a little. I'm working on starting any one of the other things.
I've learned things. I've learned that it can take $150/month to keep a 970 square foot apartment at 83 degrees if it's 102 outside and you have a west-facing window. I've learned that I've forgotten all of my Algebra and Geometry and just can NOT help my daughter with her homework. But that it's OK, because I'm learning that she's smarter than me anyway. I've learned that I really should own a drill. I learned to pay my bills on time and I've sort of learned to budget. Maybe in my second year of independence, I'll learn to save. heh.
I spent last night very unhappy. This post is the tail end of a rant, where I talked about how much pain I've been in lately and how I don't understand why I'm still feeling that way. I didn't post it last night, I'm still not entirely sure why. Instead I saved it and revisited it today, where I copied and pasted and refined what you see above. It's still hard over here and I still don't know why. Something that people don't understand about depression is that reminding yourself of all the good things in your life doesn't automatically make it better. In fact, the perverse nature of the disease means that at times, the reminders can make one feel worse. It's bizarre, but true. So - posting these things didn't automatically solve the problems but maybe I can remind myself that I've made progress over the year and that it's a slow deal. It's an evolution. One day I'll get it right. If I've come this far in one year, just think how far I'll have traveled in five!! Heh. Pour me another glass of Malbec please.
*I have no fucking clue how to spell that.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
BWAHAHHAHHAAA
| You Should Get a MBA (Masters of Business Administration) |
 You're a self starter with a drive for success. You'd make a great entrepreneur. |
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
The Anger
How to sum up the past week...something articulate, intelligent, yet not too pretentious...y'know, like a good red wine? Hm...OH, I know! Like this:
GOD-DAMN, COCKSUCKING,MOTHERFUCKING, GOATBLOWING, BABY-CANDY-STEALING, LAST-BEER-DRINKING, BOYFRIEND-FUCKING, INCH-OF-MILK-LEAVING, OTHER-PEOPLE'TH-TACOTH-EATING*, BAD-PANTS-WEARING, STINKY-BREATH-BREATHING, NO-TIP-TIPPING, TAPE-NON-REWINDING, URBAN-LEGEND-FORWARDING, ALL-CAPS-EMAILING DICKWAD, ASSBAG, SHIT!!!!!!!!!!
Needless to say, it has not been a good week. I am filled with the angst and guilt of a thousand Jewish mothers**. I'm having teen issues over here. It may be karma, it may be due to the fact that I'm a giant divorced sinner who dares to have sex (!!!!), or it may be due to the fact that my kid's just a fucking delinquent. Who knows?
What are the stages of grief?? I may have sailed into anger over here, folks. I'm sensing anger...are you sensing anger?? I smell anger. Oddly, it smells like mac & cheese and cheap red wine.
Here's the deal...without going into the specifics over here, my daughter and some friends made a bad choice. They got ratted out and have been sent to the school district's "alternative center". Am I happy about this? No. I'm trying to figure out which part of it I'm least happy about though. Of course, the choice she made horrifies me. (Nobody was injured, lest you think the very worst, but still...arg!) But now I'm trying to figure out if I'm upset about her being sent off to The School because of...the stigma? The idea of her being with "those people"?? (Oh, fuck you, you'd feel the same way about your baby, so close your fucking email client, you fucking hypocrite (oooh....there's The Angry again...sorry)) Is it because I'm making it about me and I feel like I've failed?? ("You think??", Jane)
Of course, I just (like, just - hi REAL TIME BLOGGING) had a conversation with kiddo about it, and (of course today was the first day) she likes it so far - she can't bring anything in and out, which of course means she doesn't HAVE to bring anything in and out - which also means (say it with me folks) not much homework!!!! Uniform dress code means getting ready in the morning is a snap. She got in trouble with her 3 best friends, so gues who got sent to The School with her? That's ri-iiiight. I...I..when this is over with I think I may pack up the cats and move to Goddamn Borneo. Seriously. Is there someplace with child labor camps still??***
And through all of this, where's the Ex? The Ex is on vacation in Mexico. Which means I still get the joy of having The Discussion when he gets back. Who wants to bet a Starbuck's card that he blames me? Huh? HUH? (The Angry, she is lively tonight. I will appease Her with more wine.)
Ok, on Clean House just now, I swear these people had a statue of the Loch Ness Monster. I have some random shit in my house, but dude.....Nessie??
So, Sunday...maybe Monday, GAH!! Sometime in the next few days I get to be told what a horrible mother I am and how it's all my fault that she made a bad choice and the blah and the blah and the blee and you know what...maybe it's The Anger speaking, or maybe I'm at the point where I always got in ourarguments discussions - i.e. four days later, where I could think rationally and realize that I was a real person with real thoughts and emotions and could maybe be RIGHT from time to time....good LORD this is a long fucking sentence, will it ever end???
(pant, pant)
The point...I've come to realize in all of this that, duh, I make mistakes because I am human. It happens. I am not a perfect mother, therefore I do not have a perfect child. But beyond that, the behavior of a child is NOT necessarily a reflection of the quality of the adult in the house. My daugher made a bad choice. She knew this was a bad choice when she made it. How did she know it was a bad choice?? Because *I* taught her that. Sometimes, despite everybody else's best intentions, we make stupid choices, and we get nailed for them, and we pay the price, and we learn. I did it, now kiddo's doing it. Does it suck? Why Yes...yes it does. Verily, lo it doth suck. But like everything else that sucks, I expect, hope, believe that we will come out on the other side of this better and stronger.
And I will continue to hold on to this belief....aaaaaallll the way through till she moves out. Heh.
Hey...did I just hit acceptance?
*Hi Max. For the rest of you, it's a long story. But don't worry, it's nothing dirty.
**Don't even try to start with me. Seriously. I won't have it. Send all of your culturally sensitive hate mail to OHgetagrip@OHPLEASE.I'mkidding.com.
***I know there are, and I know they're horrible and yes I'm kidding and shut up. OY. Again, bad week, I'm kidding. Good lord.
Needless to say, it has not been a good week. I am filled with the angst and guilt of a thousand Jewish mothers**. I'm having teen issues over here. It may be karma, it may be due to the fact that I'm a giant divorced sinner who dares to have sex (!!!!), or it may be due to the fact that my kid's just a fucking delinquent. Who knows?
What are the stages of grief?? I may have sailed into anger over here, folks. I'm sensing anger...are you sensing anger?? I smell anger. Oddly, it smells like mac & cheese and cheap red wine.
Here's the deal...without going into the specifics over here, my daughter and some friends made a bad choice. They got ratted out and have been sent to the school district's "alternative center". Am I happy about this? No. I'm trying to figure out which part of it I'm least happy about though. Of course, the choice she made horrifies me. (Nobody was injured, lest you think the very worst, but still...arg!) But now I'm trying to figure out if I'm upset about her being sent off to The School because of...the stigma? The idea of her being with "those people"?? (Oh, fuck you, you'd feel the same way about your baby, so close your fucking email client, you fucking hypocrite (oooh....there's The Angry again...sorry)) Is it because I'm making it about me and I feel like I've failed?? ("You think??", Jane)
Of course, I just (like, just - hi REAL TIME BLOGGING) had a conversation with kiddo about it, and (of course today was the first day) she likes it so far - she can't bring anything in and out, which of course means she doesn't HAVE to bring anything in and out - which also means (say it with me folks) not much homework!!!! Uniform dress code means getting ready in the morning is a snap. She got in trouble with her 3 best friends, so gues who got sent to The School with her? That's ri-iiiight. I...I..when this is over with I think I may pack up the cats and move to Goddamn Borneo. Seriously. Is there someplace with child labor camps still??***
And through all of this, where's the Ex? The Ex is on vacation in Mexico. Which means I still get the joy of having The Discussion when he gets back. Who wants to bet a Starbuck's card that he blames me? Huh? HUH? (The Angry, she is lively tonight. I will appease Her with more wine.)
Ok, on Clean House just now, I swear these people had a statue of the Loch Ness Monster. I have some random shit in my house, but dude.....Nessie??
So, Sunday...maybe Monday, GAH!! Sometime in the next few days I get to be told what a horrible mother I am and how it's all my fault that she made a bad choice and the blah and the blah and the blee and you know what...maybe it's The Anger speaking, or maybe I'm at the point where I always got in our
(pant, pant)
The point...I've come to realize in all of this that, duh, I make mistakes because I am human. It happens. I am not a perfect mother, therefore I do not have a perfect child. But beyond that, the behavior of a child is NOT necessarily a reflection of the quality of the adult in the house. My daugher made a bad choice. She knew this was a bad choice when she made it. How did she know it was a bad choice?? Because *I* taught her that. Sometimes, despite everybody else's best intentions, we make stupid choices, and we get nailed for them, and we pay the price, and we learn. I did it, now kiddo's doing it. Does it suck? Why Yes...yes it does. Verily, lo it doth suck. But like everything else that sucks, I expect, hope, believe that we will come out on the other side of this better and stronger.
And I will continue to hold on to this belief....aaaaaallll the way through till she moves out. Heh.
Hey...did I just hit acceptance?
*Hi Max. For the rest of you, it's a long story. But don't worry, it's nothing dirty.
**Don't even try to start with me. Seriously. I won't have it. Send all of your culturally sensitive hate mail to OHgetagrip@OHPLEASE.I'mkidding.com.
***I know there are, and I know they're horrible and yes I'm kidding and shut up. OY. Again, bad week, I'm kidding. Good lord.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
On the ledge
How to spend Tuesday on a ledge:
Oversleep - a lot.
Get nothing accomplished at work - not due to to gross incompetence or laziness, but because every project you're working on is in a state of suck at the moment.
Get yet another email from a former fuck-buddy, despite the fact that you've tried to politely blow him off by saying "I have a boyfriend", but he hasn't quite gotten the message.
Have near-miss in parking lot of gym
Listen to your boyfriend describe what his ex-girlfriend did when she orgasmed
Pick up your daughter from the football game early because she was caught smoking by the school relations police dude - realize this means she's lied to you about the whole "only once" thing
Listen to your daughter talk about how she thinks The Ex and his girlfriend should get engaged because "they work really well together."
Find out your daughter failed Reading - READING - something she TAUGHT HERSELF TO DO DO, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.
How to sort of talk yourself off the ledge:
Stop for coffee any-Goddamn-way and enjoy it during the detour to office because they have all of downtown under construction, decide that Austin city planners are all on acid.
Use IM to talk to Jane and mom, pay cable bill, do what can be done and vow to do better tomorrow.
Blow it off, grumble, delete email.
Blow it off, have a really great fucking run once I get in the gym (endorphins rock.)
Blow it off, remember that he's with me now dammit. (DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT)
Talk to kid, find out that whole group was smoking and that she took the blame for the whole group. So yeah, she still lied to me about smoking and yes I'm hurt and yes I let her know and we're working on that, but...in a weird way I'm sort of proud of her for taking the fall for the whole group. Is that wrong??
I..I don't know why, but I can't talk myself off the ledge about this one. It has nothing to do with HIM, it has more to do with it just not being fair. Why does he get to move on before me? My vengeful two year-old says that it's because he needs the help more, and yes I can taste the bitterness in that sentence. Mmmm, red wine and gall, yum. Anyway - final verdict? *stomp* *pout* NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR.
Siiiiigh - she failed reading because she lost her ID and couldn't check out a book on the reading list. So - this was an Home Administration error - one that we talked about getting fixed and was just totally avoidable and correctable and, as I told her, partially my fault. So...bleh.
This whole adulthood thing? It can bite my sack.
Oversleep - a lot.
Get nothing accomplished at work - not due to to gross incompetence or laziness, but because every project you're working on is in a state of suck at the moment.
Get yet another email from a former fuck-buddy, despite the fact that you've tried to politely blow him off by saying "I have a boyfriend", but he hasn't quite gotten the message.
Have near-miss in parking lot of gym
Listen to your boyfriend describe what his ex-girlfriend did when she orgasmed
Pick up your daughter from the football game early because she was caught smoking by the school relations police dude - realize this means she's lied to you about the whole "only once" thing
Listen to your daughter talk about how she thinks The Ex and his girlfriend should get engaged because "they work really well together."
Find out your daughter failed Reading - READING - something she TAUGHT HERSELF TO DO DO, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.
How to sort of talk yourself off the ledge:
Stop for coffee any-Goddamn-way and enjoy it during the detour to office because they have all of downtown under construction, decide that Austin city planners are all on acid.
Use IM to talk to Jane and mom, pay cable bill, do what can be done and vow to do better tomorrow.
Blow it off, grumble, delete email.
Blow it off, have a really great fucking run once I get in the gym (endorphins rock.)
Blow it off, remember that he's with me now dammit. (DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT)
Talk to kid, find out that whole group was smoking and that she took the blame for the whole group. So yeah, she still lied to me about smoking and yes I'm hurt and yes I let her know and we're working on that, but...in a weird way I'm sort of proud of her for taking the fall for the whole group. Is that wrong??
I..I don't know why, but I can't talk myself off the ledge about this one. It has nothing to do with HIM, it has more to do with it just not being fair. Why does he get to move on before me? My vengeful two year-old says that it's because he needs the help more, and yes I can taste the bitterness in that sentence. Mmmm, red wine and gall, yum. Anyway - final verdict? *stomp* *pout* NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR.
Siiiiigh - she failed reading because she lost her ID and couldn't check out a book on the reading list. So - this was an Home Administration error - one that we talked about getting fixed and was just totally avoidable and correctable and, as I told her, partially my fault. So...bleh.
This whole adulthood thing? It can bite my sack.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Feh
Dear Amazon
What's with the suck?? First you fuck up my daughter's birthday order, only shipping part of it, and now you're not displaying properly. What's the deal?? I defend you, I order books from you even though I really should do more to support my local economy, I go to you first when shopping for just about anything from music to bath products to shoes, and this is how you repay me??
I just want to see when my kid's movies will ship, and when you'll, y'know - CHARGE MY CREDIT CARD. It's a little pecadillo of mine, knowing when somebody's going to take money of my checking account. A little foible. Quaint, I know. Sorry. Forgive me?
Plus, I did order those movies a couple of weeks before her birthday - ordinarily plenty of time. And I didn't order high demand titles here - I ordered "Empire Records" and "Angus" - a movie so obscure* that it's not even available on DVD. I'm not pre-ordering Harry Potter and the Hobbits go to Narnia over here. OK?? Sheesh.
C'mon Amazon - I'm on your side. Stop fucking with me. Fix the website weirdness (which has been going on for a while I've noticed) and ship my kid's movies. (Did I mention they were birthday presents. They were. Thanks Amazon - THANKS A LOT.)
Assholes.
hmph
Laura
*Oh but it should be, because it is so so so so so so so SO good. Go out, find this, rent it and watch it. NOW. NOW!!!! You will not be sorry. If for nothing else, the pure JOY of seeing George C. Scott in a frilly blue tux. Seriously - you! go now!!
What's with the suck?? First you fuck up my daughter's birthday order, only shipping part of it, and now you're not displaying properly. What's the deal?? I defend you, I order books from you even though I really should do more to support my local economy, I go to you first when shopping for just about anything from music to bath products to shoes, and this is how you repay me??
I just want to see when my kid's movies will ship, and when you'll, y'know - CHARGE MY CREDIT CARD. It's a little pecadillo of mine, knowing when somebody's going to take money of my checking account. A little foible. Quaint, I know. Sorry. Forgive me?
Plus, I did order those movies a couple of weeks before her birthday - ordinarily plenty of time. And I didn't order high demand titles here - I ordered "Empire Records" and "Angus" - a movie so obscure* that it's not even available on DVD. I'm not pre-ordering Harry Potter and the Hobbits go to Narnia over here. OK?? Sheesh.
C'mon Amazon - I'm on your side. Stop fucking with me. Fix the website weirdness (which has been going on for a while I've noticed) and ship my kid's movies. (Did I mention they were birthday presents. They were. Thanks Amazon - THANKS A LOT.)
Assholes.
hmph
Laura
*Oh but it should be, because it is so so so so so so so SO good. Go out, find this, rent it and watch it. NOW. NOW!!!! You will not be sorry. If for nothing else, the pure JOY of seeing George C. Scott in a frilly blue tux. Seriously - you! go now!!
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Birthday Girl
Happy Birthday Kiddo.
I had an entry in progress, full of neat little things you've said and done throughout your (so far very interesting) 14 years, but I was only on year 4 and it had already gotten pretty damn wordy. So...lemme sum up.
Kiddo is the toddler who started giving out Hallowe'en candy from her own bag when we ran out one year.
Kiddo is the kid who always finds some little gifty for me whenever I let her loose at a street fair/music festival/whatever.
Kiddo will argue any point into the ground.
Kiddo can cook. No, I mean - COOK. She pulled together a shrimp in champagne sauce that could have made the Baby Jesus weep one night.
Kiddo can out-swear you. No...really.
Kiddo mixes a mean vodka tonic.
Kiddo re-designs her t-shirts and sews them back together and gets compliments and where'd-you-get-that's all the time on them.
Kiddo is one of those rare people that understands both Algebra AND Geometry.
Kiddo has an amazing alto voice.
Kiddo is a slob.
Kiddo gives and gives and gives,but you have to be willing to take it all, even the swear words and the sarcasm and the little messes she leaves everywhere.
Kiddo has no interest in being like anybody else, she wants to be her. And somehow, she has managed to figure out this desire and expresses it at 14.
I want to be my daughter when I grow up.
Happy birthday baby. You are the best thing I've ever done.
I love you.
I had an entry in progress, full of neat little things you've said and done throughout your (so far very interesting) 14 years, but I was only on year 4 and it had already gotten pretty damn wordy. So...lemme sum up.
Kiddo is the toddler who started giving out Hallowe'en candy from her own bag when we ran out one year.
Kiddo is the kid who always finds some little gifty for me whenever I let her loose at a street fair/music festival/whatever.
Kiddo will argue any point into the ground.
Kiddo can cook. No, I mean - COOK. She pulled together a shrimp in champagne sauce that could have made the Baby Jesus weep one night.
Kiddo can out-swear you. No...really.
Kiddo mixes a mean vodka tonic.
Kiddo re-designs her t-shirts and sews them back together and gets compliments and where'd-you-get-that's all the time on them.
Kiddo is one of those rare people that understands both Algebra AND Geometry.
Kiddo has an amazing alto voice.
Kiddo is a slob.
Kiddo gives and gives and gives,but you have to be willing to take it all, even the swear words and the sarcasm and the little messes she leaves everywhere.
Kiddo has no interest in being like anybody else, she wants to be her. And somehow, she has managed to figure out this desire and expresses it at 14.
I want to be my daughter when I grow up.
Happy birthday baby. You are the best thing I've ever done.
I love you.
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