crucible of ennui

Asshat: “Have a wonderful Mother’s Day! Don’t drink too much.”

Me: …

Asshat: …

Me: “yeah. ’cause Mother’s Day is the biggest drinking day of the year.”

Show me a young Conservative and I’ll show you someone with no heart. Show me an old Liberal and I’ll show you someone with no brains.

                                                                               ~Winston Churchill

Glenn: Mario Kart till we puke tonight!

Me: EXCELLENT. BE PREPARED TO EAT MY WII-DUST!

Glenn: In your Wii-dreams.

License plate: MYNDMLD

License plate frame: Live Long and Prosper.

Name one thing you do every day:
Read. I sit down and read everyday. Either a newspaper or a book or an essay off the internet. It’s a habit I’ve had for almost 3 decades.

Name two things you wish you could learn:
Learn to play the harmonica
Learn to speak Russian or Chinese

Name three things that remind you of childhood:
The smell of a new box of crayons. If I could bottle the scent, I would.
Robotech & Kung Fu Theater
Parcheesi

Name four things you love to eat but rarely do:
Corn on the cob
Chili Cheese Fries
Lagasna
Cotton Candy

Name five things/people that make you feel good:
Catherine. She lights up the room with her silliness and life.
The smell of a bookstore. Used book stores run a close 2nd place.
Seeing people be kind to each other
Catching sight of the ocean
Red Mary Janes

Photo by Glenn Calvin

Mongo loves to steal socks. He will pluck them out of the basket when I’m folding laundry. He will snatch them out of Catherine’s room if he sees any. He will also take her underwear and smallish articles of clothing.

Step 1: Steal Socks
Step 2: ?? Step
Step 3: Profit

Glenn said, “vajayjay is just a ridiculous term for fadoodledo.”

I’ll remember that.

When Andie & I were 4 & 5, one of the chores we had was picking all the snails out of the geraniums. We’d stick them to the sides of our red wagon, then pull our cargo out and put them in a line in the middle of the street in front of our house. Then we’d sit on the curb and wait to see what would happen. 

Who said little girls were sugar and spice all the time?

The last snail that didn’t get smished was declared the winner and was put back in the geraniums.

With Easter right around the corner, it’s time to retell that most favorite of rabbit stories, Becky bunny.

When my sister and I were 2 & 3 we had pet rabbits. My bunny was Becky, named for my best friend’s mom who lived across the street. She was soft and oh so fluffly.

I wasn’t aware of the fact that we were in the process of raising rabbits as a food source. I’m not sure why a suburban family in San Fernando Valley felt the need to farm bunnies. Seriously. There’s an Alpha Beta just down the street. What about Danish American Farms - that really cool store with all the produce and meat counter where the butcher shaped the ground meat into the animal shape from whence it came?? C’mon. There’s no need to kill your own food in 1970.

One day my Becky ran away. She just disappeared. I cried all day long. Mom made us a special dinner that night - fried “chicken.”

It didn’t look like chicken. It didn’t taste like chicken. And those were NOT chicken bones on my plate.

Not cool Mom. Not cool.

I remember only my sister and I getting “chicken” that night. The killing of Becky and my sister’s rabbit had been too traumatic for my father and he could only bring himself to bump off our two pets. How thoughtful.

The next day - the rest of the rabbits ran away. And the day after, the rabbit hutch.

I really didn’t understand that I ate Becky until years later when I found the this note in my mother’s handwriting.

I’d like to call your attention to the word ”live” in the note above. ”Live” rabbits, not like the pile of dead ones right off frame in the bunny killing fields I called my backyard.

Moral of the story (besides not letting your parents kill and then feed your pet to you for dinner) : Don’t eat weird chicken; it could be your pet.

“when I was a little girl and I said something naughty or told a lie my momma would rub icky soap on my tongue as a punishment.”

“why?”

“because I must have told a lie or said something sassy.”

“like godamnit”

“…”

“Where did you hear that Catherine?” inside voice: “please don’t be me, please don’t be me”

“at school on the big side. Jack said it and got a time out.”

“Well then Jack was very, very naughty and my momma would have washed his mouth out with soap too.”

I was pretty shocked (and a little amused, but like 99% shocked and 1% amused. maybe 93/7). her timing when she said it was perfect. She nailed it.

In rapid succession I thought:
WTF did she just say?!
OMG I hope it wasn’t me she heard that from.
OH SWEET JESUS PLEASE DON’T LET HER SAY IT IN FRONT OF MY SISTER.

and Wow - she’s got the sassy down.

Maybe 81% shocked.