May 18, 2007 by Marj Hatzell
The great thing about having a
diary blog is that you can get everything that is cluttering your head OUT of there and make room for more useless information. The stuff I store up there is like a cluttered attic. You know, useless, broken, dusty and out-dated? What is it good for? Jeopardy. I plan on being on Jeopardy someday so that I can show everyone what all of this is for. My sisters kinda have a joke about what is stored in my brain, that I basically know something about everything and can recall bits and pieces of useless information but cannot balance my checkbook.
Oh, and crossword puzzles. I am good at those, too.
I mean, does anyone REALLY need to recall their academic schedule from every year of high school while they are trying to fall asleep? Do I really have to tell you who sat next to me in ninth-grade English? Do I have to recite the poems I learned in grade school, or the mnemonic device a friend of mine learned in sixth grade at the Norwood Library to memorize a matching quiz so she’d get a passing grade? Well, just to prove it to you, here it is: Debbie Perry Can Run Slow And I Hate That Because Even Queen Grady Fails. What could I possibly do with that information, y’all? Is it any wonder that USEFUL and IMPORTANT information leaks out of my brain faster than Bugaboo can undress and streak around the yard?
Here is what was running through my head last night as I attempted to drift off into la-la-land:
- Darling blows his nose in the shower. That makes me nuts.
- We are about to spend an obscene amount of money on the house. In two to three weeks it will look completely different. So, if you come to my house after that, you may need a map.
- We are signing the paper work for the home equity loan tonight.
- Bugaboo had SIX POOPY DIAPERS yesterday. He had major trots, thanks to Cefdinir.
- We have plans to go to Ocean City, New Jersey. We planned on bringing the dog to see my sister-in-law and her family because they have a cool dog beach there. It is supposed to be 60 degrees and rainy. Shad Roe is staying home.
- My back hurts. I did four hours of yard work yesterday. Skelaxin is the best drug since sliced bread. What does sliced bread have to do with medicine? Well, penicillin grew on bread mold. It’s an antibiotic, which is a prescription medication. See the connection? Yeah, me neither.
- Darling did not appreciate me throwing the grass clumps into bald spots in the yard. The tractor somehow mysteriously clogged…hmmm…
- I don’t like eggs. But I eat them a few times a week. I have no idea why.
- I love potatoes. Oh wait, you knew that.
- MIL is supposed to take Bug Boy to the Blue Rocks tonight and it is probably going to rain. I kinda hope it does, because it may force MIL to actually spend time with us. It’s not that she doesn’t want to, she just has so much going on and overplans. She actually wanted ALL OF US (including Bugaboo) to go to the Blue Rocks. Can you picture Bugaboo at a baseball game? Climbing over the seats, running across the field, getting lost in a crowd, finding the river TWO BLOCKS AWAY when we lose him in the sea of people? That’s funny, I said sea of people. It’s a Blue Rocks Game. They get about 1,000. More like a creek of people. A natural spring of people. A turn-on-your-faucet of people. A wring out your dishrag…
- I have been eating chicken and spinach every day for lunch. I do not know why, but not eating soft pretzels and Wawa junky food has enabled me to lose eight pounds with no other changes in my life. Last night I decided to live dangerously. I had chicken and spinach for dinner. I know, I am shocked and horrified, too.
Now, I thought about all of that in the span of five minutes. Then I started thinking about the great linen bermuda shorts and the fantabulous linen trench coat I found at Old Navy. I could live there, I sware. Swear, even. And I have to vacuum and dust my house, because Bugaboo touches the television alot while he watches it (which he doesn’t do often) and leaves his slimy fingerprints on it. And Bugaboo better stay out of his diaper because I am sick of scrubbing floors, bleaching stuff and bathing him so many times a day. And the roofer is cute. So is the kids’ Neurologist. So is my husband, but he blows his nose IN THE SHOWER. He also refuses to clean my hair out of the shower. I need to shave so I don’t scare people. My legs are barely noticeable but the pits are, well, the pits. I need to start thinking about hair removal for this season again. If you don’t know what I am talking about, look here.
Ahhhh.Those were the days.
The point I am trying to make (if there is one) is that I can be deep in a conversation with someone and be all, “Oh! Look at that! That’s cool! I got a new purse. It’s black and cute and it was $10. My van needs to be vac’d out because the kids eat in there, and I keep saying the kids will never eat in there again, and then I go to Wendy’s and get them fries and HEY! Wanna go get some pizza?” Yup. And I wonder where my kids get it. The apples don’t fall far from the tree, folks.