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December 2008
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February 2009

Glued to my hip

A strange phenomenon is happening as I get older… I’m becoming a bag lady. Well, in truth, I’ve always been a bag lady. I was condemned to walk this path from the time my virgin hands clutched that first purse. Red, it was, spaghetti strap handle, barely big enough to hold an iced cherry chapstick, my allowance, and a compact with the entirely wrong shade of powder (ah, 80s makeup jaw line, I remember you well!). That purse went with me everywhere.

So it’s not really a surprise, is it, that that purse was eventually replaced with another. And then another, into a long succession of can’t-live-withouts.

Here’s the thing… I’ve always considered myself a compact sort of girl. I like small silverware, small chairs, small cars, and above all small purses. You carry too big of a purse and you’re just bound to carry a bunch of crap you don’t need. (And being slightly packrat-ish I needed to fight that at all costs.) Plus, I’m a petite woman and a huge purse just makes me look like I’m gonna fall over.

So, you know, when the ginormous purses came out as the “it” bag I wasn’t having none of it. Anything that was “go anywhere satchel”-sized was just too damn big. Purses big enough to carry a portfolio in, or a few dozen groceries, were completely out of the picture. If I needed to carry my computer, I took along a computer bag… and my small purse. If I needed a diaper bag, I took along a diaper bag… and my small purse.

But something definitely changed along the path. I didn’t happen right after the baby, it was more insidious than that. I had noticed that my purses had gotten slightly larger over the years, oh very slightly, since that first bright red bag. Which is natural considering eventually I had more than five bucks to spend, and learned how to put on more makeup than chapstick. I really starting seeing a difference right around when Chance turned two…

I got really sick of carrying around two bags.

Slowly but surely, I started using totes to consolidate all my goodies. (Totes are the gateway purse, you know.) I didn’t need quite as many supplies for Chance but I still needed some. Then, the next purse I bought was a little bigger, just because all those pictures were stretching my wallet out a bit. Then the next purse (yes, I have a collection)… well you can see where this is going.

For Christmas Keen bought me this kick-ass Marc Jacobs bag. I LOVE it! (I didn’t even ask for a purse this year. He is just an extra special man.) And it’s pretty much the biggest purse I’ve ever owned. (Which still, compared to all the “it” bags, isn’t even all that big.) But I had some trepidation – given the small woman weighted down against hurricanes look. Except…

It fits ALL my stuff! (Oh yeah, baby just like that.) I’ve pretty much been carrying that purse alone everywhere. I even mentioned to Keen that I’d love one in the same size in black.

So that’s it… I’m definitely on a downward slope. I’ll be that old lady who needs a shopping cart to push her purse around, I just know it. With blue hair and a million sweaters. (Nah, I’ll go for peach hair. Rock on Dame Edna!)

Don’t worry, I’ve made peace with the situation. However, promise if I start carrying around small pets, somebody will slap me.
               - wg

Stay tuned for improv stuff coming soon! Courtesy of the wild imaginings of ShutterBitch.


Pulling it out of my a... creative unconscious

So this is the post I started last week:

It seems like every time we have a bout of rain around here our Internet goes down.  But not every day it rains... only the first day it rains.  I.e. five days of straight rain and our Internet will be up and down that first day, then it's fine.  Sort of like how everyone forgets how to drive on that first day of rain.  Even though winters here are mostly rain.  You'd think that would keep drivers fresh. 

Anyway.  

I seem to have inadvertently addicted my child to cafes and tea houses.  Given the current state of the economy these are probably places I shouldn't even go

... aaaaaaggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!

OK, it didn't really end with the written out scream but sometimes, with the number of posts I start and leave unfinished, I feel like they should.  All I need left is a few crashes of lightning, and the power going out just as someone knocks mysteriously at the door.  Of course, all of these posts are intended to be full of witty banter (can it be called banter if it's just one person?) and babbling insightful commentary. 

Anyway.  I have stuff to write.  No, really.  However, as I'm trying to organize my brain into some aspect of coherency (it is Monday, after all) I'm wondering if anyone's up for a little post improv?  Throw out some phrases, topics, suggestions, or questions (NEW!) and let's see what spills out of the nether creative regions.

            - the weirdgirl

P.S. If you'd like to know why I haven't been blogging feel free to direct letters of complaint to my boss, Wicked Taskmaster.


What Can I Say...

That hasn’t been already said on this day? Whether what is said is full of tears, or joy, or hope, or bitter denouncements. We came with baggage, generations in the making. Baggage many of us today would not have chosen and long over due to be left by the side of the road. Even if that means we make the journey ahead with nothing but ourselves; memory, the clothes on our backs, and the hands we build with. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m OK with that.

It is the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fucking fabulous.

Obama Inaguration


"Change is the process by which the future invades our lives, and it is important to look at it closely, not merely from the grand perspectives of history, but also from the vantage point of the living, breathing individuals who experience it."
           -Alvin Toffler, Future Shock

"The art of progress is to preserve order amid change, and to preserve change amid order. Life refuses to be embalmed alive. The more prolonged the halt in some unrelieved system of order, the greater the crash of the dead society."

           -Alfred North Whitehead, Process and Reality


Watch me geek out

So Battlestar Gallactica comes back tonight!  Oh my god oh my god oh my god!  I am currently bouncing around like a kid on the worst crack-sugar-Wii high EVER.  I've played it cool for most of the day but... we're getting close now and I JUST CANT STAND IT! 

Squeal.  Girly hands.

I'm gushing here on the blog because my husband does not watch the series.  Yeah, I know.  But I figure HE can put up with ME because he watches way too much car affiliated sports AND I have not dragged him to any chick films this year.  (Except for Juno, for which he thanked me.) (Was that this year or last?) 

Anyway.  'Cause the thing is you can totally be a girl who likes shoes and lipstick and reads intellectually and is also a major sci-fi nerd.  Most people think this cannot be, but I am telling you it can.  I know a good purse and I know some damn good sci-fi when I see it!  Even my drum teacher, who is always laughing at me, says "You're such an English nerd, but then you're not." I think at the time I was stomping around swearing about getting too old to be putting up with any shit or some such fuck shit damn thing.  But the thing is DO NOT BE FOOLED... English nerds can totally kick ass.  I mean, seriously, how do you think all those librarians keep everyone in line?

And the sci-fi nerds like me?  Well, we might be taking some kick boxing too.

GO STARBUCK!
              - wg


I'm shocked, shocked...

So we found out who taught the oh-so-lovely "pleeeeeeease" to our son... 

It was his GRANDFATHER! 

I know previously on this blog I have refrained from calling out by name the indiscretions of certain elderly relations (hence the acronym UOR (unnamed older relative)) but DUDE!  You're in your 60s!  And you're a dude!

I mean really.  Not to mention that what you taught our child is completely and thoroughly annoying. 

But don't worry... Keen totally kicked the UOR's ass about it. 

              - the weirdgirl

P.S. Is it really only Tuesday?  Why does it feel like it's been a long week already?

"Your winnings, sir."


On not so itsy bitsy streams

While in the car (and much cuter than the whining)...

CHANCE, singing:  "The itsy bitsy spider climbs up Chance's leg.  DOWN comes the PEE and washed spider away!"

pause

ME: "Um... out comes the sun?"

CHANCE: "OUT comes the sun and dries up all the PEE!  And the itsy bitsy spider climbs up Chance's leg again."

I swear I didn't teach him that.  (And I suppose only a boy would be confidant that he could get a stream with enough power to wash away spiders.  I certainly can't do that.)

Despite that it looks like I'm turning into one of those bloggers who only posts once a week (and then once every two weeks, and then once a month, and then gradually drifts away,) in actuality I have been swamped with a work project.  I swear I will get back to posting more often - and more importantly, READING! - as soon as I can.

Though wishes for good sleep would be much appreciated.
             - the weirdgirl


Your regular voice works just as good

We have been infested.  Infested in the most annoying manner.  Specifically, this infestation belongs to the variety of...

"Pleeeeeeeeeease?" 

Big puppy eyes, head tilt, long drawl out voice ending in that high note that can quickly, oh so quickly, turn into full on whining. 

We don't know where this infestation originated - whether from school, the TV, another of the species, or if it just percolated up from the murky depths of the toddler Id.  Doubtless the creature is under the impression that this is an effective, and cute, method of obtaining his goals.  I can only imagine that it must work on Grandma (??) because it is not cute.

It is far, far from cute.

Especially repeated several times a day.  Upon hearing it, and its whiny (nastier) cousin, it pretty much squashes any inclination I may have had to good-naturedly give in to the goals of the creature.  In fact, the entire infestation is seriously grating on my nerves.

But I can't admit that... because then I know it'll grow into a plague.

              - the weirdgirl