BaldJake: We all have our moments.
Sassers: I have too many.
Moo: Moi aussi.
Sassers: Haha. What?
Moo: I used the French.
BaldJake: Tres bien.
Joey: *blows kisses*
Sassers: Three good?
BaldJake: Very good.
Joey: Oui, Moo, Sassy parle pas bien le Francais.
Sassers: NO HABLA CROISSANT!
LATER THAT DAY:
Sassers: Donde esta mi madre?
BaldJake: JE NE PARLE PAS TACO!
Whether you enjoyed this post, whether you understood it, HAVE A VERY HAPPY FRIDAY!
See, what happened was, I hadda go out for a pastrami sammich and a slice of cheesecake and a quart of matza ball soup and the sky was nice and there were doors.
There’s this one, from when I thought this interesting building would have interesting doors.
The reflection is the real story.
And here are two I got at odd angles.
The wires add somethin there, I think. Matte black and wires. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
Then two in one shot. Dueling styles.
#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link and find the frog.
I saw this at the fair:
I was all, “Ooh! I wanna! Y’all wanna?”
Yes, me and my girls, doin the thing! We bought our tickets early and decided we’d go as a sorta last hurrah before we left.
Nifty!
I’ve been on a ski lift countless times in my life, what could go wrong?
This.
This could go wrong.
This was a bad idea.
Not even as high as a ski lift. Only about 35 feet.
Anxiety did not care, but I wasn’t expecting it.
So I hopped on the Skyride, Yellow one — Yay! The seating was two per, so my daughters got in the next one. I began my ascent into the beautiful twilit sky, which we all agreed was perfect for Instagram. So nice for Joeys. Ooh, ahh.
Cept, umm, no. I thought I’d be up there, swingin my feet, smiling into the clouds. I’d smile and wave to fellow travelers, take a few pics…
How it really went:
oh shit. oh shit. oh shit. oh my god. ohhhh fuuuuuuuck. i am a good mom. i will be strong for my babies. i will not scream. i will not cry. i will not let the anxiety control my life. i do what i want. it’s my life. i enjoy floating in the sky. nice pep talk is totally not workin here. deep breaths. are you even breathing? holy shit, can i even go skiing again? bunny hill only? that is the suuuuck. i wish i had an ativan. what kinda bad bitch do i think i am? why the fuck are we stopping? oh my god, it’s moving like a ferris wheel! no vertigo. no no no no no. focal point. oh my god, everything is moving! there are no static points in the sky! i want my mommy! breathe s’more. i’m okay, i’m okay, i’m okay. i’m perfectly safe. look, the other people are okay, you’re okay, too. why are they so calm!? i wanna be calm! oh little boy, please, do not lean forward. lord please don’t let my babies lean forward. oh if i live through this i am goin home and i am havin a shower and a cocktail and why the fuck didn’t i think this shit through? imma die. i have got to make better decisions.
FOR TEN MINUTES. IT’S A TEN-MINUTE RIDE. I ALMOST PAID TWICE AS MUCH SO WE COULD TAKE THE TWENTY-MINUTE RIDE.
It stopped three times. I white knuckled it the entire way. I took a few pictures. With one hand. With my phone clutched to my chest. While we were stopped.
Beautiful! Not filtered at all. It looked just like that.
You can’t even feel my fear, huh?
I’m guessin my heart rate was around 180, but my ribs kept my heart from burstin, and the photo is focused and everythin.
I figured out the poles were numbered and I counted down. When I got to 6 I could see the landing area, but I couldn’t feel my hands anymore. It was a long, long journey.
The view from the ground was just fine.
When we got home, we discussed our common thoughts on Skyriders who passed us.
“One lady scrollin on her phone! Like she was on the ground and her life was okay!”
“I know! With the bun?”
“Yes!”
“And one lady, layin all on her mans like it was just totally normal and romantic and not the scariest thing she’d ever done!”
“I saw her, legs crossed even!”
“I know!”
“And that one little boy leaned over!”
“And his dad let him!”
“I know!”
“People turned around and waved to their fam!”
“Huh uh, no!”
Not a single person in passing looked terrified. We envied all of them.
I had a shower and a cocktail and I slept like a rock.
Look at me, doin the things. Living. As I am.
Happy Monday?
This was an odd weekend.
It rained all weekend. It rained and it rained and it rained. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and grinned accordingly. The Mister “had had enough of this shit” pretty much immediately and Sassy suffered because rain is nature falling from the sky and she almost froze to death because the temperature dropped below 80 and well, I think she may be a desert creature.
I opened the windows and slept like a dream every night.
It was divine.
I hear my boots and sweaters calling to me and I painted my toenails raspberry. In September. Mmhm. Maybe a lil wishful thinkin there. Maybe not.
The girls went to an event, leaving us alone for several hours.
Here are the pictures:
Aren’t they darling? This’ll be my thing now. I’ll be the mom showing you collars and elbows.
Do you know when this set of teens goes out, we don’t have two other little ones to take care of at home? Isn’t that bizarre?!?
At Steak n’ Shake, The Mister ordered a shake and they brought it in a to-go cup. I ordered a hot fudge sundae and they delivered it in a paper cup, with a lid and a plastic spoon, like it was carry-out. I no likey that.
I asked The Mister, “Are they out of dishes?”
He then gave a sweeping hand gesture at the nearly empty restaurant. No idea. Sassy accidentally stole a spoon with her shake, but at least she got actual metal utensils. (We’ll take it back, y’all know how I feel about accidental stealing.)
I was super excited to see what I thought were butterscotch-covered pretzels at the store, but they were pumpkin fucking spice.
I accidentally bought fat free milk and I don’t know if we can cope. Maybe I’ll make a lot of fat free puddin.
I bought blueberry streusel and apparently I’m the only one who’ll eat it. Isn’t that sad?
My roast (or as Moo says, meat with the stuff in the red thing) didn’t come out right. I.don’t.know. I only care about the non-meat bits, personally, and those were superb, but dammit, that sucker cooked all day and should have been fallin apart. Why is it, when you cook it the same way every time, sometimes it doesn’t turn out the same? I bet that happens to me at least once a year. Tell me if that happens to you.
I had Sassy bring in some basil and I washed it and plucked the burn spots, only I didn’t know one of those burn spots was actually a beetle and it bit me. I threw it to the ground and let the dog play it to death. I WIN.
We wanted to avoid Broad Ripple because it floods but that’s where the gyro place is. However, it turns out, they also have one in Fishers, so we went there, where I got the falafel and he had the lamb and that was quite nice.
We had pizza one day, too. Greasy mall pizza.
We were out a lot.
My husband worked a bit, but not his regular I’m-workin-extra hours and that freaked me out, because Saturday mornings are always weird when he’s not here and there’s no coffee made, but then he was really, really late!
Janet said the readers at Aldi are cheap, so I stopped to check em out, and I don’t know if cheap is even the right word. I bought three pair for $4.99. I’ll buy more when I see them again. Just decorate the house with them.
Our internet went out. The truck people had to come out and take the ladder to the pole and do things, and then our network name changed, but we didn’t know that the network name changed. Twas Moo who figured it out and fixed it and then we had internet again. Moo is awesome.
I also found out Moo packs “snackies” for Sassy to take to school and I think that’s precious.
We saw a man try to put an antique bookcase into the back of his Prius. He seemed surprised it didn’t fit.
That’s my upbeat thought for today. No matter if things don’t go as planned, even if you screw somethin up, did you even try to put a bookcase in your Prius?
See? You can has good day.
I had the Fridayitis today, y’all. For the last two weeks, I did my best to make up my sick days. We had a holiday. You know that’s a whole day nothin got done, right?
My boss Tuesday night: Why are you still here?
Me: Because I missed two days and my workload is huge.
Of course, this is true, but also, I’m a lil Type A with big anxiety disorder and a fair amount of OCD and I can’t stand feeling like I’m not making progress in a measurable way. At anything, ever. Omalord, what if I were asked for a thing and I didn’t have it?!? Could I even go on?!?
Since I worked late, The Mister worked late, too.
Cletus did not approve of our late nights.
Sadie ate a shoes. She hadn’t done that in seven years.
Our house got messy, too. One night I came home and the living room looked like the cover of White Trash Living or some shit.
When the cat’s away, the mice do fuck all.
Yeah. So last Friday, I finished a project and because I did that FOCUS, JOEY! this week my monitors were trimmed with post-its on what I would do when the project was done. I mean, veritably, trimmed in post-its. I’m not going to tell you how many. All week I was the post-it note taskmaster and I am happy to report there are now six. Woot!
Also, I finished a big math today. I had to fix someone else’s math. Let that sink in. I, your Joey, had to undo and redo the math that someone else did not do properly. I know! My brain. Oh my poor brain.
I truly believe the math aged me today. It’s all the scowling. Lipstick can’t save me from the scowl. For that, I’ll need alcohol … and maybe ice cream. Bourbon float, maybe.
But I left on time. On time! Woot!
FRIDAYITIS.
That shit is real, yo.
It’s going to rain all weekend. Do you know how I feel when it rains all weekend? Like Mother Nature loves me best.
Happy Friday Everyone!
I was doorscursioning and I saw this place and thought how hot it looked.
I liked the overall vibe of these wee abodes. Happy. Painted happy colors with happy hardware and happy plants and best of all, off a barely traveled street. I love that. But don’t it look hot? I bet it’s a lot more inviting when it’s ten degrees and snowy. Well, not for the plants…
I was so caught up in this spot, pondering the quiet in the city, takin in all the texture, I didn’t even get the doors ferreal.
Distraction.
Here’s another one I got hung up on and never got the actual door shot. It’s in another city from another time, but it’s the same kooky me, entranced by the overall entrance.
Opposite this door was a section of giant zinnias, which I watched some sparrows utterly destroying. Someone, probably the resident here, cast sunflower seeds all over the alleyway, no doubt in an attempt to lure the sparrows away from the zinnias. The sparrows, ruthless in their hunt for fresh spoils, did not appear distracted. I was so caught up in watching the sparrows, I didn’t even photograph the scene.
#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link and find the frog.
I like round things. Circles and orbs are my favorite. It’s true. Even I have a friend called Orb. Right up there with “Does it come in white?” is my preference for circular things. Immediately, I think of my daily jewelry choices. Earrings — 99% of mine are variations on a circle. Balls, discs, filigree circles, diamond circles, sea glass circles, beads on a hoop, and my favorites? Gold circles with turquoise beads dangling from them. Necklaces? Circles. I usually choose from five variations of discs and beads. My favorite bracelets feature circles and beads. Watches must have a round face. Ring settings? It’s round-cut or it’s off. You know where I keep my rings? On a ceramic white giraffe — with gold circles for spots because … Polka dots. I love polka dots. I’m in polka dot pajamas right now. My favorite shirt in the whole wide world is white with gold polka dots. It has a tiny hole in it now. Holes in my shirt are sad circles. Favorite dress? Navy blue with white polka dots! Round necks are better than v-necks or collars. If it has a v-neck it needs a circle, like a necklace or a SCARF, am I right? Maybe a scarf with polka dots. Round hat boxes. Round hat brims only, come to think of it. Buttons! Buttons are soooo cuuuute! Sassy is called Button you know. Rounded toes on my shoes, please. I DO NOT LOOK GOOD in round glasses. How very sad. Full moon. Snow in the night sky. Snow globes. Snowballs and snowmen. Stone fruit is round. So many round fruits. Fruits are the best. Ice cream scoops are round. No, no, ice cream is best. Why would you cut vegetables like zucchini and carrots into sticks when you can have cute circles instead? And you put them in round bowls and on round plates. I tell ya, maybe it’s interesting how I’m drawn to round things except roundabouts and baseballs, but when it comes to dishes I have an aversion to hard angles. You people with the octagon bowls and mugs and glasses? Do your lips form an acute triangle or somethin? Maybe your hair grows straight, too, what do I know?
Stream of Consciousness Saturday — SoCS ’round’ is brought to you by LindaGHill
That’s right, right? There aren’t 32 days in August. I never could do that thing with the humps on your knuckles. You know the thing? Prolly my knuckles are wrong. Stupid hands. The only thing that saved me was the poem, “Thirty days hath September…”
I had a nice, relaxing weekend. Which is why I was shocked to wake up sick on Monday. Usually I get sick when I do too much. The Mister said I threw a wrench in the works with my good job at relaxation. I had been too chill, he said. Overcorrected.
Lost a day there.
Monday afternoon was not Instagram material, although the prompt was Silence and it was silent. All the cats were snugly. On accounta bein desert animals and all, cats like hot people. I was sprawling, diagonally, across the foot of my bed. Not on purpose, not how I lay down at all, however, that’s how I woke up. I had been on fire freezing, covered in all the quilts but hours later I was just on fire, pajamas all twisted and displaced.
I thought I was dying because anxiety disorder. My kids thought they’d die cause they hadda take the bus. My mommy was not here, there was no lellow Gatorade, and no one kissed my forehead and told me I’d be okay.
Bout lost Tuesday, too, but I pulled through.
Have I ever mentioned how horrible it is to be a sick mom? I believe I have. It’s like, you feel sick like any other human, but your husband is frustrated in his helplessness and your children are like, “Oh em gee, your illness is so totally ruining my life right now.”
Wednesday I went back to work, which — You ever missed two days at your work? Unplanned? The work is still there, with new work. What.A.Day. A few clients wished me well and were sorry to hear I had been out sick, but not a single one of them sent flowers or brought me chicken soup!
After work Wednesday, we went to the world’s worst fundraiser where they force you to buy ice cream for a good cause, and where bigger ice cream is better. You ever been so happy to be standing on the sidewalk eating ice cream that the world disappeared? Like it’s you and the ice cream in a perfect moment? I could movie montage with that ice cream. That ice cream and I were practically running toward one another in a meadow. I was beside myself with the happy.
Hadda eat a double scoop waffle cone. Half coconut cream, half black walnut. Very drippy. Super happy. FOR A GOOD CAUSE. *does not remember the cause*
Thursday, Sassy stayed home sick as Monday Me. I decided to eat actual food for the first time since Sunday. I know. But I was sick. Mentor and I ordered out and I ate half a turkey, cheddar, apple, horseradish, carrot, arugula sammich on cranberry walnut bread and a cup of chicken and wild rice soup with bread on the side and a giant Coca-Cola and that was all very, very good. And fortifying. So I could make a dent in catching up.
Then I went to the grocery store and bought other real food which I will likely be well enough to both cook AND eat.
Then I went home and lay on my husband and petted him and did all the talky-talk. This is important stuff, y’all.
Today Mentor and I are ordering some Chinese. I feel ready to take on tangy sauce and sticky rice and snow peas. Mmhm. I can handle it.
There may be too much talk of food in this post. Haha, like that’s a thing!
I will work beyond 5:00 traffic. There’ll be extra kids at my house, and I will take the kids to the thing. Then there might be another kid coming overnight. I dunno. I just drive.
This weekend is a long one, and I’m glad. I have new books. (And new readers, which I bought special to keep near my sofa, because that’s where I am in my life now. I can read nothing printed on paper. I sorta need a pair on a hook in every room, but for now, sofa specs. Maybe I’ll get a chain, a really gaudy one. I’ve had glasses since I was 28, but it’s only in the last year I’ve become truly dependent on them. It’s — appreciate your eyesight, okay?)
There may also be too many selfies in this post. Although, quite clearly, my vanity need not be a concern. I’m awfully glad to be well(er).
I have decided yes, I will definitely do some good restin over the weekend, but I won’t be too lazy — in case The Mister’s right.
Happy Long Weekend Everyone! Eat tasty and take selfies!
On one of our many, many dates, oh so many dates last week, we went to the bookstore and then to a chocolaterie.
I like chocolate. I’m one of those people who eats a square and says, “Mmm, that was lovely.” My husband? He is the kind of person who eats all his squares, then my squares.
Sometimes I want chocolate and I want there to be chocolate when I want it, and so I buy raspberry chocolate mostly, because The Mister won’t touch raspberry anything. Also, I’m not above hiding my chocolate.
The chocolaterie is pretty. It’s shiny and high gloss and it has a door. Two doors, actually.
Okay, but chocolate. Such beautiful delicious chocolate. It’s art.
They were all good. My favorite was the raspberry truffle.
Date night can’t always be about her. Sometimes ya gotta buy yer fella a Samurai book and take him to the chocolaterie.
#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link and find the frog.
I’ve just returned from the market and I’m eating a sammich (turkey, Swiss, avocado, tomato, mayo) and a peach. I bought the peach during a sale last week and all the pretty peaches had been taken. Since I was gonna eat the peaches, I was content to take firm, ugly peaches, and guess what? They’re still delicious. There’s a metaphor in there, in case you didn’t notice.
Moo wore her/my/the gray USMC sweatshirt to the market, which the man behind the counter noticed. He said, “I think your daughter’s shirt misspelled ARMY,” and that turned into a whole long veteran convo about shit I truly do not miss, which is why Moo and I went on shopping, leaving The Mister there to jaw-jack about whatever sounds to me how our lip gloss convos must sound to him.
You know how people have gaydar? My husband has vetdar. It’s good for him. It reconnects him to parts of himself that he can’t express or enjoy fully otherwise. He gets a charge out of it, which I appreciate. However, one thing you can say about empaths runnin into one another, at least we’re fuckin quiet about it.
I suppose whoever we are, wherever we go, we notice people who are like us.
I was flat-out hangry, y’all.
I’ll be back after I take Moo out for lip gloss. (She no longer wears her blackberries.)
Stream of Consciousness Saturday — SoCS ‘notice’ is brought to you by LindaGHill
