September 17, 2009 by Marj Hatzell
I went shopping with my mother yesterday. Normally I cringe at the thought, but something has softened me lately. I don’t know if it is because I’m finally getting sleep or that Ian is finally in full-time school or the fact that my grandmother passed away recently, but I actually LOOK FORWARD to and CHERISH the time I’m spending with my mother. She’s still as fruity as a box of fruit loops but it was still fun. And I got a sweeeeeet new purse out of the deal. TOP THAT, RED HEADS! I’M HER FAVORITE! HUZZAHHHHHH!!!!
While shopping, we had to stop at the Kmarts (that’s what they call it, my parents. They also say I-talian like EYE TAIL YUN. Go figure) because mom needs certain underwear and Dad has to have his Hanes pocket tees in 2XL (Mom was sick of gray because it’s all he wears and it is soooo boring, she says. So she got him olive green and khaki, the only other equally boring colors on the color wheel). We’re parking at Kmarts and she’s all, “What kidney failure? Diabetes? Why would I got to an endocrinologist for that? My Primary is JUST FINE!” and I happen to glance over and spot a woman wearing a reverse mullet. As in, the Kate-plus-eight-minus-asshole John hairdo. As in, spikey porcupine wear the mullet should be and long and straight where the short and spikey should be. And I’m all, “OMG!” Seriously? Does ANYONE THING THAT’S AN ATTRACTIVE HAIRDO? It isn’t.I just want you to know.
IT IS REALLY NOT ATTRACTIVE OR PRETTY OR STYLISH OR MODERN ON ANYONE. It totally sucks.
Whew. Glad to get that off my chest. Because when I’m trying to fall asleep at night, thinking about reality television peeps and their shitty hairdos is top priority, right ahead of the latest argument I had with my husband, the five piles of laundry on my floor, my ridiculously stained twenty-five-year-old carpets and the fact that my six-year-old runs away on a daily basis.
Also? Kanye West is an egomaniac (and HELLO!!! HE WALKED IN THERE WITH A BOTTLE OF HIS OWN LIQUOR, YO! IS ANYONE REALLY SURPRISED HE DID THAT?). Madonna is one, too, because she cannot even say something nice about Michael without mentioning herself five thousand times. Jay Leno AIN’T FUNNY. I do NOT watch SATC or Desperate Housewives. I’ve never seen Seinfeld. I’m not entirely sure how to spell it. I think Gossip Girls and Twilight sucks and are dumb and don’t argue with me, I’m right and you are wrong.
And people who plan shit behind my back and don’t consult me and then tell me at the last minute? You suck big balls. Big, sweaty ones.
And, while we are on the subject, My puppy does not play with balls and she doesn’t play fetch. She likes walking around the yard with HUMONGOID sticks and logs in her mouth. All fifteen pounds of her. She digs a little and is starting to act more and more like a beagle every day. You know, Beagles? The bane of my doggy existence? The dog I would never, ever, EVER get in a million years? Yes. Sweet Bristol is most likely 1/2 beagle. We heard her howl for the first time this week. She doesn’t bark, though.
Speaking of dogs? Shadow. Downhill. Fast. And she ain’t skiing. She has an appointment tomorrow so I’m trying to hope for the best, but all I can do is curl up next to her and scratch her distended belly and rub her ears and tell her she’s my prettiest Shad Roe ever and cry. Sigh. Having dogs SUCKS sometimes. Well, just the part where they die before you want them to. The rest is all gravy. Like, the kind of gravy you buy at $3 a jar to pour on her new kidney food so that she actually eats it? Yeah, that.