About me: I'm a 40-something mother to a pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our tween Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler Cam, and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). I'm a freelance graphic designer and writer.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Random Tuesday Thoughts: Is it over?
If a 30-second stint in the microwave kills all the bacteria on a sponge, what does a 3-minute stint do to leftovers? Does my lunch have as much bacterial floria as notepaper?
My next door neighbor Eric tricked me into eating notepaper when I was a kid. He told me the lines were blueberry flavored, and I fell for it. He also told me giving someone the bird was a patriotic gesture (because “the bird” was a Bald Eagle). Some days he spit on me at the bus stop if I was in line ahead of him, and once he tried to get me to take my pants off.
Conveniently, his mother wouldn’t listen to neighborly complaints about her son because she “didn’t like tattles.” I always thought I’d like to use that line when I became a parent, but after 30 years of build-up, the appeal is gone.
I find the same to be true about being an adult.
Has anyone tried these?
I saw my friend this weekend. She has Vulvodynia. After she told me she had it, she asked me not to blog about it. That made me laugh. If you’ve never heard of it, Vulvodynia means pain in the vulva. I think the name sounds more like a flower or a little girl’s name.
“Oh Vulvodyniaaaaaa. You didn’t finish your peas, Vulvodynia.”
Is it just me or do Dixie and Kleenex not understand there's a Green movement underway whose success relies upon producing less waste? Dixie's slogan is "Turn your next meal into a Dixie moment." Does that moment include watching my children play on a landfill mound?
“Oh Vulvodyniaaaaaa. Please don't play on that garbage pile, Vulvodynia. I know there's no grass left, but please, climb down.”
And fucking Kleenex—they've created disposable hand towels. I checked out their FAQ's, just in case there was a "How can I sleep at night knowing I'm generating so much waste?" question, but all I found was "Where do I keep Kleenex Hand Towels in my home?"
Why, right next to your aerosol cans and plastic water bottles of course! Seriously, the human race kind of makes me sick sometimes. Him too:
I can’t decide if I want to go to BlogHer or not. Can someone who’s been before tell me what I am going to get for $300, besides the chance to meet a lot of great people?
For more randomness, check out this crazy cat.