let's pretend we don't exist/let's pretend we're in hesperia

we'll have bizarre celebrations, alright. we'll play scrabble and grouse about the junior varsity dictionary we're using to arbitrate our challenges.

a shower means baby powder on a brush.

a tablecloth means an umber-striped sheet from 1978.

slippers are absolutely mandatory.

all-day pajamas are the required uniform.

daily backrubs and unscheduled naps are on the menu.

to become initiated into the cabin club, you must be able to endure the raging heat that emanates from the wood burning stove. it's good for the pores, people. if it gets too much, just step out the sliding glass door onto the deck and take a cool ride on the rope swing.

your pastimes [books, magazines, hobbies] are worth nothing here. i know you don't believe me, but you just don't need 'em.

once inducted into this sweatlodge society, you will find great joy in shopping for insanely cheap and needless items at the local v&s. everyone needs a neon green digital watch... especially when it's a dollar!

you will be warmly queried [almost eerily so] by every person who serves you scrumptious buttered raisin toast an inch thick for breakfast and packs your groceries lovingly in a plastic bag.

you'll meander down the road, trying to burn off your thanksgiving feast and will jerk to attention suddenly, throwing your swaddled head to and fro in search of an oncoming car you hear. it's just the wind in the pines.

evidence to suggest people are getting stupider

10) "my humps" by black eyed peas

9) paris hilton

8) fox's arrested development series is cancelled

7) d4l's "shake that laffy taffy"

6) mcdonald's outsourcing drive-through employees in india. i'm lovin' it!

5) fox's family guy was cancelled and then brought back, only dumbed down a whole bunch

4) it's okay to elect a president that had cocaine issues, but let's crucify a supermodel [the very poster child for 90's heroin chic at that] for snorting some rails, everybody! people, she's a model.

3) michael jackson somehow hasn't just fallen completely off the radar

2) that cesarean sections are at an all-time high is somehow newsworthy. come on: scheduling a procedure to have your precious bundle removed under anaesthetic versus unexpectedly shitting a watermelon. you pick.

1) we wonder why we americans are so damned fat. the world's #1 sport is soccer -- ours entails sitting in a car for four hours.

what a mighty good man

imagine a stately, fluted waterford crystal vase, filled with long stem red roses, open and fragrant, a few sprigs of vibrant yellow yarrow and, in the center, a fruitful branch of red hypericum.

i don't have a camera here to take a picture so i did the best i could. it's too gorgeous not to document and share somehow.

this is what is next to the bed in my cool khaki room, sent to me my by thoughtful husband who is braving the wilds in third-world china right now. visas, carnets, and 85 lbs. of equipment strapped to his back, he took the time to send me these beautiful flowers. i am a very lucky lady.

proof you can't possibly be the worst parent in the world

this last weekend, i was in michigan for a monster of a dance team competition in lake orion. the day prior, my coworkers and i were in the local wal-mart, ransacking it of all candy and office supplies. yes, if you ever should find yourself at such a spectacle, you will now know that we are not fueled by our love for children, our passion for dance, or even our commissions [don't get me started]. we are fueled by candy.

since i had just before had a big, fibrous lunch at bd's mongolian barbeque, i needed to go to the restroom. i'm like a puppy that way -- gotta go right after i eat. i know that may seem like too much information, but people notice this about me and are like, "dude... did you just cackalacka in there? are you bulimic?" just wanted to clear things up: i will do everything in my power to avoid puking.

so i go to the wal-mart bathroom. yes, my male xenotoiletphobic readers, i was actually planning to cheer the browns on to the superbowl at a wal-mart bathroom, and it was a nasty, stanky, ghetto one at that. shake off the schvilkes and keep reading.

so i'm in my stall, trying to hurry my business along, and i hear from outside,

"girl, you don't have to wash your hands. you didn't poop."

[indistinct murmuring from a child, water splashing.]

"what did i just say?! i just said, you din't have to wash your hands! you gonna get it now!"

[hurried footsteps out the door.]

and god said, "let there be tagging," and it was good...

we aren't the first garage off the entrance to the alley, but we are the first lighted garage. there is a super-bright street light illuminating our ramshackle pink-and-white carport just across from an elementary school, bestowing us with the dubious honor of having the most cherry [or is that cherriest?] garage for gangbangers to mark their territory. as i backed out from the garage in the red sled and shut the door, the latest oeuvre d'art of some local clique called the m.a.n.i.a.c.s scrolled before my eyes. it was full of other gang jargon, including a heart with a swastika and your typical forklike symbols used by subsets of "people", one of the two factions of chicago gangs.

i can hear the tsk-tsking from my suburbanite readers now. no worries: the best part is that all i need to do is tap 311 on my celly and in a day or so, i will have a freshly painted garage door. yes, it's my kinda town.

three oaks weekend

prancer was filmed in three oaks... and it's rated g!

this weekend was a study in luxuriation. casey and i stayed at my mom and stepdad's house in three oaks, michicken [just mess'n with ya, mom] with my sister dina [frequent blog-commenter and occasional fellow spelling-slaughterer] and her husband rick. jack took us to the desolate indiana dunes where we breathed in gulps of fresh air and saw three deer drinking from the lake. in addition to celebrating dina's birthday, we also toasted many glasses to the glorious announcement that dina is pregnant with twins. you can enjoy a photo of my mom's expression upon receiving that news here. it's the best. yea for dina and richie!

three oaks ain't no one-horse town -- there are some hip shops and galleries, and we dined on some delicious fare. at a quaint house-turned-coffee shop, i had some delectable crepes with mascarpone cheese and blueberries for breakfast that catapulted me into acid reflux. i later kept that whole agony-ecstasy theme rolling with a crostini appetizer topped with chevre, artichoke hearts, sundried tomatoes, and olive oil in a bistro decorated in the same style as our second floor. no, i waddn't skeered -- i ate like a champion.

after dinner saturday night, we went to see a late showing of saw 2. my review? here it is in three words: not for hemophobes.

anyway, there was a couple there with a two-year-old. i'm not joking. the wide-eyed toddler, clad in a pink pom-pommed ski cap, was perched post-bedtime on their lap throughout the entire film. for the duration of the feature, i could be found palming my lower face in my spindly iron grip with my left hand, the right protectively wrapped around the veins of my left wrist. in those unwatchable moments to me, i glanced around at the audience: other heads flinched away and nervous squeals rippled through the crowd, yet the little pink fuzzy head was always there with its face upturned to the glow of the screen like a daisy looking for light in a dark closet. snuggled up to casey's back in bed that night, i had to concentrate on erasing visions that disturbed me: wrists trapped in a razor-valved box, the xray of the key lodged in the head, and the little pink daisy at the horror flick.

after a magnificent homecooked breakfast, much coffee and many hugs and kisses, we returned home to mindfully observe the effects of daylight savings time. autumn is here!