Archive for November, 2007

little bits…

Did you have a nice Thanksgiving? I did. I did just enough cooking not to feel deprived and got to spend time with some awesome (and very missed)  people. My favorite part about the holiday is the four day weekend. I do not shop, so Black Friday means nothing to me. Instead I watched Six Feet Under dvds (still my favorite show of all time), and speed read Patti Boyd’s Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me. The only thing I really took away from it was finally, the inspiration for one of the few Beatles tunes I like; Dear Prudence.

The kiddo has put in for a Baby Alive doll this Christmas. I felt kind nostalgic when she told me, since I too, had a Baby Alive when I was a tot. And then I took a look at the current model. Oh. my. God. Check out those anime eyes! This thing looks freaky!

gulp!

So the kiddo and I were out at our weekly lunch spot, a charming little space that touts healthy, trans-fat free food and a yummy sweet potato and cranberry salad. Another apparent no-no is Diet Coke, which I forsake in favor of their homemade Italian sodas, usually. Today, however, I thought I’d do something different and sample their Moxie soda in the bright orange can. This looked like a serious, bad ass cola with attitude, perhaps something that could become a new habit. Wrong! So very, very wrong. If you haven’t tried this stuff, it tastes something like….cough syrup. Medicinal. No doubt naturally derived from the bark or root  of a tree revered in ancient Native American territory or something like that. But definitely smacking not so faintly of something you’d find also in the doctor’s cabinet,  which, by the way,  I’ve learned was in fact created by a physician.

Now, the kiddo took a pause from her organic grape soda, tried a swig of the tongue bracing stuff, and endorsed it enthusiastically, with gusto, as “Absolutely Delicious!”. This is from the tot who wrinkles her nose at bubble gum flavored Tylenol.

Go figure.

but he didn’t sing

*sigh*

I was underwhelmed by Spongebob’s Atlantis Squarepantis special the other night after much anticipation of David Bowie’s guest appearance. But, I liked the fact that his character had unmatching eye colors and the transporter was powered not by fossil fuels, but by song. Nice touch.

hmmm….

My first car was a blazing orange hatchback with all manner of things wrong with it. But it had one thing that I felt was a reflection of its driver: a little bumper sticker  proclaiming that “when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping”. True. It was very much my life at the time. Wake up in a bad mood? Sale at The Limited, let’s go load up and feel better.   Bad day at work? Well, there’s a perfect blouse in just the right shade of shell pink calling….I must go forth! It was nearly always clothes that provided just the right amount of comfort. I’ve since shed that philosophy in favor of more constructive pursuits, usually involving dirt, paint, paper, etc.

I’m remembering all of this now because my dear kiddo has shocked me recently with her discovery of the joys of retail therapy.

The mind boggles at the things she feels we “need”, though she did warm my heart and impress me with her sensible taste in cars (she feels we really, really need a Vokswagen Rabbit….I’m on board there, if we ever really did need a car.). She’s not so bad in the grocery store, actually, she’s quite good at dropping things I’ve “forgotten”, things like miniature marshmallows for her hot chocolate, bread and butter pickles, and the odd bag of Cheetos here and there. However, she’s discovered K-Mart, a new obsession that happened sometime around Halloween in the costume section. She feels now that we need every toy on the planet, plus a bevy of office supplies (???!!!!!). She’s not very subtle about getting them in the cart either, and the checkout is time for major cajoling and bargaining. It’s painful.

Today, however, at the Salvation Army (we call it The Fun Store), I was able to talk her out of an outrageously expensive Lion King toy until it was discounted to a more reasonable choice. I will digress and say that even some of the thrift shops have been insanely priced and require one to know there retail prices.

We’re looking at preschools. This looks promising. The kiddo inspects them with me and never wants to leave.

We have terribly spoiled squirrels in our yard outside who like to come right up on the porch rail and feast on the open faced peanut butter sandwiches we make them.

The kiddo feels also that we are in urgent need of a pet…..a parrot, in fact.  They scare me!

short update

hello, hello…

just a short update on my life right now. we’ve moved to a beautiful place up north of our state, in a quaint, funky little town tucked amidst beautiful rolling hills and a twisty river or creek(haven’t figured out which one it is)  that seems to follow us wherever we go. It’s very much a walking town, which delights me.

The kiddo is having a blast. She should, because she’s found her people. Meaning, little ones like her. She does all sorts of age appropriate things like fighting over toys, sharing candy, and conspiring to get into all sorts of trouble. She’s pretty happy.

I am knee deep in job searching. I’m ready. So very ready.

I watched my first football game in years last night….Colts vs. Patriots. I still could figure out what was going on; no problem there. It was a great game.  Oddly enough, though I adore New England, I can’t bring myself to root for their teams.  Rooting for the Pats was too close to rooting for the Red Sox for some reason. Don’t ask me to explain it. There’s just still a lot of New York in me, I guess.

I’ve thought all season long that this wasn’t the Yank’s year, though I hoped to be wrong. Their pitching staff just wasn’t there yet. I have a lot of faith in next year’s young phenoms. And I’ve thought Joe Girardi was elite managing material even in his playing days…many catchers are. It’s going to be so very strange not seeing Joe Torre, who represented for me all that was classy about NY, around. Sigh. I won’t miss Arod though, natch. So long, diva.

That’s all for now.