Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Thanks to a Crappy Cascade Commercial

I haven't written in a long time, and I've had some sort of bitch-ass Romulan cloaking device over my usual Shining Brilliance. Instead, I've nursed The Man through yet-another-surgical-endeavor, endured his You-Won't-Like-Me-When-I'm-Angry Codeine Moments and volunteered for Princess's Daisy Scout troop. I've done all this while quietly pining for a tropical vacation and wondering if anyone will spring for some Vibram finger-toe shoes if I promise to actually run a real 5K in real life.

I haven't written anything short of grocery and/or to-do lists.

What brought me back from beyond The Wall, you ask? (And if you're not immediately thinking the answer might be marching hammers, we can't be friends.) A douche-tastic commercial about dishwasher detergent.

I was skimming through The Internet, probably looking at discount duvet covers, when I heard some woman blathering about her blog. I briefly thought of my own neglected blog. Then she went on about how when she takes pictures of food for her blog, she doesn't want to see spots on the dishes. Huh? Oh. Yes. Cascade Magical Bitchin' Power Packs take care of that for her. She and her blog are safe from spots.

And I knew, friends, I knew I HAD to come back. Not just to save you all from inept sell-out bloggers who get way too excited about spot-free Fiesta ware, but because I really don't just do this for YOU. I do this for ME.

I do this because if I don't do this, the bastards win. What bastards? I don't even know, but I know that they win if my Brilliant Word Art is silenced. Even if I'm the one silencing MYSELF. It's very if-a-tree-falls-in-the-forest, which is a koan, which is roughly the only thing I remember from the Zen section of Intro to Eastern Religions.

The sound of your slow clap is filling my heart with warmth and joie de vivre.

I may have nothing to write about, I may have nothing to say, I may take a long time just to SAY that nothing, but the act is the art friends. If that doesn't blow your mind, I don't know what will - other than an ounce or two of China White and some time on your hands. (Even there I'm only guessing but I'll check with some un-named sources and get back to you.)

There are many things that have happened since the last post and I don't know where to start. The Man had an actual injury and I was sort of right and sort of wrong and he needed surgery which I am starting to suspect he actually enjoys, judging by the sheer number of operations I cart him home from each year. He either has Munchausens or is a super-oldster before his time. Or he spent too much time falling off of things, running into things or being hit by things. Really any or all of those work.

The dog and the cat have reached a Cold War-like truce. The dog comes past the basement doorway and tries to sniff the cat and the cat unleashes his Claws of Mass Destruction while looking like a puffy armadillo thing and then they stare at each other, wondering who will blink first. It's usually the dog. She has the attention span of a two year old at Disney. Then the dog walks away slowly, so as not to appear bested by a cat who most closely resembles a tiger-striped basketball.

I discovered the discount home decor store of my dreams. It's huge and full of vases and statues and pillows and paintings and rugs and the light of JOY and GOODNESS. I'm almost glad it's 35 minutes away. My general dislike for driving that far with the kids is a nice preventive measure against me blowing most of The Man's paycheck on decorative sconces.

I turned sconce into a verb. I've told friends that I'm "sconcing" it up over here. You're welcome.

I also discovered the myriad fun things you can purchase at Sally's Beauty Supply. Like clip-in funky hair color streaks. I wear my thus named Awesome Red Hair whenever I feel like channeling my alter-ego, Trixie Stardust. The Man told me I'm not 15. I told him to suck it. My fake red hair streak rocks.

We watched Thor in 3d and it was pretty sweet. Minus having to watch poor Natalie Portman act, which always pains me, it was fun. I won't lie and say that I don't want a sweet ass hammer, because I totally do. I bet Thor's hammer would make it WAY easier to hang discount home decor items. Sidenote: no one here appreciated it when I pointed out the discrepancy with the hodge-podge of mythology trivia. I'm just saying, why is Thor's hammer covered in Celtic designs? Thor was Nordic. Anyone?

We had our first date night a few weeks ago, but unfortunately The Man was still on codeine and I almost had to drown him in the scenic canal next to the restaurant. Damn your eyes, codeine. I paid a sitter $8/hour for that.

The normally-kid-friendly radio station used the word 'bitch' today and I had Casanova chanting 'bitch' for about five solid minutes. Awesome. I'd rather take my chances with rock music, at least then I have time to invent alternate words. No honey, he's saying DITCH, like a drainage ditch!

Princess spent a whole weekend with Grandma. I had anticipated her freaking out when bedtime rolled around, and maybe having to make a midnight run to pick her up. What I did NOT anticipate was it going so WELL that there would be a problem. Turns out, she's cried every day since her return because she wants to live at Grandma's, and wants Grandma to be her mom, etc etc. Mom reminded me that it wouldn't be that much fun all the time, because she was MY mom and never played with me. Touche, mom, touche.

I'm sure there are more, given my absence, but I'm working hard to catch the kids current sinus typhoid, so I'm going to relax with a nice piece of cinnamon gum and a wingback. See y'all soon. I'll never let the bastards win!

Comments, questions, did you miss me? I know you did.