ABCluster

Perhaps I've been reading too many baby books of late which go over and over (and over) the ABC's. Maybe I've been singing the ABC song to Piglet a bit too much. I'm not sure what the deal is exactly, but I've started to dwell on the alphabet and have some issues with it. How can you have issues with the alphabet? one might ask. I've shared my view of a year before. I've told you how number and letters have colors in my mind. I think it all goes along with that. I tend to dwell a smidge too much for my own good. On to my troubles.

1. I am annoyed that I have realized that the ABC song is the same tune as Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I managed to make it through 30 years of my life without making this connection and now? It's driving me crazy. My wacked out mind won't allow me to sing one without singing the other at the same time to see if they truly match. I've started blending them together and I'm going to totally confuse Piglet as he enters his formative years. I can see it now: Piglet enters pre-school, proud to already know his ABC's. When asked to perform before the awed class, he clears his throat and sings, "A, B, C, D, E, F, G.....how I wonder what you are. Q, R, S, T, U, V, like a diamond in the sky....won't you come and sing with me?" And a deep bow. Oh, the shame.

2. Why is "W" pronounced "double U" when it's really a double V? In Spanish, I'm pretty sure that letter is pronounced as a double V. Yep, pretty darn sure if I'm remembering mi clase de espanol correctly.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Get a life, Pigs!" and I would love to. In fact, I have a pretty busy life most of the time, but in the back of my mind, guess what I'm humming? Bah! Get my straightjacket ready.

Jewishy-washy

So my book club. Last night we met about a book which involved some things Jewish (#9 on my reading list over yonder <----) and we were to bring a Jewish food with us to the meeting. Well, we're in Texas. I suspect there are Jewish people here, but I don't know of any. In fact, I have not met a Jewish person in the 5 years I've lived here, but this information is beside the point. The point is that no one really knew what to bring, including me. I called upon my my trusty buddy Dr. Google and was surprised when hummus came up repeatedly as a Jewish food. I know hummus! I'm good at hummus! One of my friends in Raleigh gave me a fabulous red pepper hummus recipe a few years ago and I've not parted from it. The only problem was, I never thought of hummus as a particularly Jewishy food. I thought it was Greek. Or Middle Eastern. This thought was confirmed by my other friend, authentically Jewish, in Raleigh. She said she didn't think it was Jewish either. But you can buy it kosher in the grocery store, so I was then confused. I figured, "Ah, well. I'm in Texas. I know the hummus, so I'm taking the hummus." And so I did. Along with some pita bread and an extra bottle of wine leftover from the bridal soiree from the other weekend with a new label hand affixed to it which read: Authentic Jewish Wine. Since other items at the meeting included kosher pickles, potato chips, and cheesecake, I can't have done too poorly. But I really do want to know: Is hummus Jewish? I'm perplexed.

Ensconced.

Sometimes, when one's child won't nap (hypothetically, of course. Piglet would never do any wrong.) one might start to lose the ability to get anything done. If, say, one's child decided that 20 minute naps twice a day are PLENTY to get him through....one might not have a lot of free time to post on the blog, do laundry, or eat. It's really a good thing that I was a teacher for eight years because it prepared me to be able to do a whole lot of things in a very small period of time. It also taught me how to eat on the run, to inhale my food, and to always be planning what I will do in my next [small] block of time so that it's ready to go in my mind, no need to think about it.

Piglet has become a fantastic, FABULOUS night time sleeper. He likes a nice 7:45pm-7:45am slumber. Without waking up. All night. For real! It's awesome. Yet, somehow in this sleeping phase, daytime sleep has been neglected. It has been deemed unnecessary. It gets in the way of Piglet knowing what is going on and there's a [very minor in my life] chance he might miss out on something fun. Piglet is 6 months old. Piglet weighs 16 pounds. Piglet is a Piglet. But I firmly believe that Piglet needs to sleep at least forty-five minutes at a nap. Call me crazy, but all the books say that babies this age need 15-16 hours of sleep a day. Well, we're getting a good 12 at night, but one in the day doesn't seem right to me. I think what the book meant to say was this: "Six month old babies should get between 15-16 hours of sleep per day*"

*except for Piglet.

Anyhoo....this lack of time to do anything is how the mountain of laundry grew to dangerous proportions in my living room and I lost the dog for a while. It had been an hour or two and I realized I hadn't actually laid eyes on Gus for a good while. I began an exhaustive search, walking by the mound two or three times before I spotted this:

One teeny sliver of beagle tail poking out from beneath a pair of freshly laundered jeans. I giggled and went on with my day of not getting anything done. An hour or so later, Piglet happily ensconced with a Tupperware cup, I began rapidly folding clothes, only to unearth this:

Still there. All happily buried in the laundry. Ensconced if you will. All of my children were ensconced. Nevermind that my clean clothes now smell like putrid beagle, they got folded and even put away during the next napping period. Mad skillz, baby. Mad skillz.

TV A Go-Go

I've mentioned before that my TV viewing habits increased dramatically when I began nursing Piglet, as it passed the time. Now Piglet is only eating five times a day and is much quicker about taking care of business and I have been left with a superfluous overload of TiVo. This poses a problem as I've gotten hooked on some very silly shows.

The first thing I did was scrap my Sabrina the Teenage Witch fascination. After all, I've now seen all of the episodes. I will forever associate Sabrina and Salem the Cat with middle of the night feedings.

But, see, now American Idol has come into the picture. Yes, I watch, no, I don't vote. I'm a big fan of The Blake. I know Melinda and Lakisha are awesome singers and whatever, but he's different. There's always girls on that can sing like they do, but he's spunky. I'd listen to his radio songs. That's all I have to say about that. My point is that it comes on twice a week, which just adds something else to watch. I will point out that American Idol can be watched in about 20 minutes if you utilize the fast forward TiVo button and skip over all the stupid stories and the contestants holding their fingers up to tell you what number to call to vote for them. They lose my support when they start in on that stupidity. It just looks dumb.

I'd say my favorite shows right now are Grey's Anatomy (which my friend who is an intern in Seattle currently says is completely ridiculous and unrealistic, but pooh on her) and Ugly Betty. And then America's Next Top Model. Do I watch trash, or do I watch trash? That show is just unavoidable. Can't stand Tyra Banks, yet love the show. It's such a train wreck. I still watch Survivor, but I wouldn't list it as a favorite. I am disappointed by the use of a "luxury" camp and a regular one because half those people aren't really on Survivor. They're on, like, My House is Outdoors. It makes it unfair and I don't like unfair. It's dumb.

In the comedy category, I like Monday and Thursday nights. I really like How I Met Your Mother and The New Adventures of Old Christine. Love, love, love The Office and 30 Rock. I'm afraid that 30 Rock is going to be one of those awesome shows that not enough people watch and it disappears. And The Office, well, that's self explanatory. Funny, funny stuff.

So now that you think my entire life is dominated by television, I have to talk about The Hills. This is a show to watch if you want to feel very together about yourself and your life. You will feel smart when it's over. You may at first feel as though you've lost a few brain cells, but in the end, you will realize how together you are and how dumb those girls are. DUMB GIRLS. They date the biggest jerks on the planet and swoon and swoon over them. That Spencer guy? Hello? Huge jerkface anyone? Yet Heidi is smitten. I am curious though why the nightclub that they always go to doesn't get in trouble for serving all these underage kids when it's broadcast on television. Am I missing something?

There. Now all of my secrets are out. Discuss.

Presto Chango

Ta-da! Shower number two completed successfully. Plenty of beer and wine to go around. Food was tasty and unhealthy, as only shower food should be. I rediscovered an old dip of mine (Wicked Awesome Sausage Queso, recipe at bottom) and whipped that up and YUM! I've been missing out not making that for several years. It's most appropriate for a tailgate or a Super Bowl party, maybe a cookout, but somehow it worked for this event too. My cholesterol is still coming down. Okay, that's a total lie because I'm sitting here eating it right now. Right now! I cannot lie to you, my internet friends.

After having four rounds of company since Christmas, I suddenly feel a sense of loss. A letdown. I have NO company planned at all! Zero. That may be due to the fact that we're going home in a few weeks for the wedding and will see everyone there. But it's still kind of boring around here with nothing to plan for. Plus it's all cloudy and bleak outside, so it's hard to get very excited.

New topic? Sleep. I have been getting vast amounts of it since Piglet has decided to sleep copious amounts of hours at night. I think my system is in shock. Five months of crazy wacked out nutso sleep bursts and then suddenly.....nine hours? In a row? My body has no idea how to react, so it's tired. How did I acheive this Instant Sleep? We cried it out. Go ahead, blast me. It won't bother me because it worked! And Piglet's just as cheerful as always. Poof!

Really Awesome Wicked Cool Sausage Queso:

Brown one pound of sausage. Use the reduced fat kind to make you feel better. In a bowl, mix 16 ounces of cream cheese, softened. Use the 1/3 reduced fat kind to make you feel better. Add 10 oz grated sharp cheddar, 1/2 cup salsa, and a can of Ro-Tel tomatoes. Mix with mixer. Or beat with beaters. Whatever floats your boat. Stir in drained sausage and cook at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes. Put out tortilla chips and eat like a pig.

Who's Got a Beard That's Long and White? Santa's Got a Beard That's Long and White....

So, I'm giving the aforementioned bridal shower/cocktail partay on Saturday. The amount of booze has been narrowed down to approximately 48 beers and 4-5 bottles of wine. Any thoughts on this? Please share. I have at last selected the appetizers. I do have a bed made for my guest, and an air mattress prepared (well, in the box in the room of choice) for another friend flying in from Seattle.

Have I cleaned the house? No. Have I cooked? Nope. Have I yet gone to the grocery store? Huh-uh. Know why? Because it was 85 degrees today and bee-a-yew-ti-ful outside, so I went to the lake with Piglet and his girlfriend and her mom. Then I hit Sonic. And it was goooo-od. So that brings me to now. 8:45pm. Piglet safely ensconced in dreamland. Dinner finished and dishes done. Friend arriving tomorrow morning, noonish. Seems like I should be feeling some pressure.

I do have cups. I am taking solace in the fact that I have cups. Clear plastic ones. And napkins, the nice kind. Do you think it's white trash to serve wine out of those clear hard plastic short cups? Like punch cups? 'Cause I only have 6 wine glasses that aren't crystal and this isn't exactly an event that necessitates crystal. Should probably go make grocery list....

...Oh, look! Turtles! (name that reference?)

Deformed Furry Blind Begging Bucktoothed Hunchback of the Leper Colony, ~200 AD

I've been thinking about this a lot. If I existed during Biblical times, I would have been up the creek without a paddle. A sad sack. The Loser of Jerusalem. It was recently pointed out to me that based on my poor vision, it's lucky for me that I live in an age of such amazing technology that allows me to wear contact lenses. This got me thinking: what would I have been like way back when?

Let's start with my vision, since that's what began this train wreck of a game that distracted me for a good twenty minutes of my life. My vision, once perfect, began deteriorating in the first grade when the chalkboard became rather fuzzy. My mother decided I was only wanting to emulate my friend Michelle Williams who had just gotten glasses and told me that I was "putting on". Alas, I was not. Two years later, she succumbed to my complaints and allowed me to get the glasses that I needed. Fast forward 22 years. My vision is now somewhat poor. Okay, I'm very blind. If you must know, my contact prescription is a -10.50. For those who don't wear glasses, this is not good. If I was to read a line of print without my glasses on, I would literally have to put the page on top of my eyeball to see it one letter at a time. So, back to the point, if I lived in Biblical times with these eyeballs, I could be the blind beggar on the side of the road.

In addition to being the blind beggar, I would have a pretty serious hair situation without modern technology. First, there would be the unibrow. Now, since I'm blind anyway, it probably wouldn't be an issue for me personally when it grew over my eyes and blocked my view. But I can't imagine that it would help me catch a man. Then, you've got my half wavy, has-to-be-professionally thinned coif that would be completely out of control. Add that to my furry legs and probable chin hair and you've got a Furry Blind Beggar.

Now you might say, "That's not so bad. I'm sure there were plenty of people like that back then." Well, sure. Maybe so. But let's add in my scoliosis, which would of course not have been corrected. I have a fancy "S" curve, so let's assume that bad boy was allowed to grow with reckless abandon for a few years and what do you have? You have a deformed hunchback! That's right! I'd be the Deformed Furry Blind Begging Hunchback.

If you insist on getting nit-picky about this game, I have to point out that there likely wasn't any Neutragena On The Spot Acne Treatment, nor was there any good Cover Girl Cover Up. Back in the day, I believe my condition would have been called leprosy. So really, I may have very well been the Deformed Furry Blind Begging Hunchback of the Leper Colony.

Finally, I must mention my teeth. As a child, I possessed some pretty out of control buck teeth and a wicked overbite. I am relatively certain that Biblical times did not offer me the convenience of a lip bumper, binator, braces, and retainers. Though, considering the lack of toothpaste, this topic may be a moot point. (Or a moo point.....can you name that TV reference?) We could just assume that all of my teeth fell out, but for kicks, let's leave them in there, all big and bucky. That will create the picture of my final composite: I would have been the Deformed Furry Blind Begging Bucktoothed Hunchback of the Leper Colony.

Who would you have been? Do you think I could've caught a man?

"Where's Nasal Spray?"

I don't know why I can't remember to not wear a red shirt to Target. It's not that hard.

Someone Who Can Do Alcoholic Math?

I need help. If, say, one was giving a bridal shower/cocktail party....how much wine and beer should one buy? There are going to be appetizers for nibbling. There are going to be around 15 or so adults of drinking age, though I'm not sure how many of them do drink, will drink, or how much they might drink. The soiree is from 5-7, so happy hour-ish. At least ten of the people will be driving from about an hour away, so this would probably prevent at least 4 of those people from drinking a whole lot. So this is my math problem to you:

If 5 cars containing 11 people traveling 60 miles per hour arrived at my house where there are already 4 other adults at 5:00pm on a Saturday and remained until 7:00pm, how many bottles of wine and how many beers should I purchase? Show your work.

Nit-picking PSA

Supposed vs Suppose

"I was supposed to go to the store, but I forgot."

"I suppose I'll go to the store now before I forget."

Sorry, had to do it. Couldn't help it. Compulsion satisified. Whew.

Work With Me.

Call me old fashioned, but I think that some social traditions should be honored. For instance, if someone sends you an invitation that reads "RSVP by March 3rd", I think that you should RSVP by March 3rd. Or at all. Just RSVP would be nice.

When I have invitations made these days I always include both my phone number and my email address to make it as easy and painless as possible. I know people, who shall remain nameless, who are squinchy about calling people they don't know and get all nervous and stressy about it. Use the email! What could be easier? Perhaps they'd like me to go door to door and personally inquire as to their intentions.

Even big events, like a wedding, where someone is paying $35 a plate for you to be there....people still don't RSVP. It's a level of rudeness that I don't get. I call the host as soon as I know my plans. Some people think that you are supposed to wait until the date on the invitation to call, which I suppose is fine, that is the deadline afterall. Others must think that March 3rd marks the beginning of the RSVPing opportunity because I received two phone calls last night. But I have to say, at least those people called. It's the ones that assume I will just sense their intentions for attendance or lack thereof that vex me.

It's quite uncomfortable to have to ask people for their RSVP. I mean, I spent 50 cents on your invitation and 39 cents on the stamp and a good 30 seconds of my time hand addressing the envelope and affixing a return address label. You'd think the least you could do is drop me a line with a "yes" or a "no" response. So simple! I'd like to remind you that it did not, in fact, say "I will be calling you on March 3rd to follow up on this invitation and collect your response."

There. I have it all out. I know that some people just don't know any better and it really isn't any skin off my back if they don't reply....it winds up being the shower honoree who has to track their friends down. I'm gonna get my RSVP's one way or the other. I've got punch to plan, people! Snacks to make! Seats to provide! Work with me a little.

My Foot Could Have Syphilis

There's a lot of things that fall under the category of "Things That Are Nasty". I have explored many of them on this blog: poop, gas, spit up, fourth graders, boogers, anal glands, more poop. Today, I have a new one that I can't believe I've never evaluated in writing before. It's crossed my thoughts every spring for the last ten years or so. It skeeves me out to even think about it too hard. Today's topic (drumroll, please):

The Hygenic Liner

Gentlemen, if you don't wear bikinis often, you may not be familiar with this little invention. The hygenic liner suddenly appeared in the crotch of bathing suits I'd guess about ten years ago. Prior to this event, there was simply a large angry-lettered sign on the wall that read "ALL UNDERGARMENTS ARE TO REMAIN ON WHILE TRYING ON SWIMSUITS." This was to connote strictness.

I'm guessing that people would just try on bathing suits willy nilly with no regard to putting their hoo-ha where someone else's hoo-ha may have just been. No thoughts to the disease or crotch lice or bodily fluids that are there for the taking.

I would like to take this moment to establish that I have never been one of those aforementioned people. I am proud to state here and now that I have always - ALWAYS - worn my tidy little unkies under the garment in question. There was definitely some tucking of things: a bump of granny panty shoved up into the bikini on the right cheek, a fold of my hipsters below the bellybutton. Yes, I had to squint my eyes slightly at the mirror to smudge out the unsightly bulges protruding from the bikini. But! I felt protected. And of course I washed my new suit thoroughly upon arriving home.

This is the part I don't understand: How does this "hygenic" liner make this process any more hygenic? What exactly is its purpose? Now someone's hoo-ha is touching the hygenic liner where someone else's hoo-ha just was instead of the actual suit. How is that any better? When you get home you can peel off all of the cooties that are clinging to the liner and have a fresh suit? I don't think so! There's still plenty of room around that bad boy for Stuff to touch. Plus? HOW NASTY IS PEELING THAT THING OFF?! I never ever touch it with my bare hand. Ever. A couple of Kleenexes and a HAZ-MAT suit will do me just fine.

You might wonder what brought this topic to my mind with such a flourish. Well, February in Texas brings about some nice weather that makes me think of laying out in the sun, which you may know I'm somewhat prone to do. Being that last summer I had to bask around in massive whalesuits (maternity wear), I'm ready for my bikini again. Off I went to Target, where I actually found one I liked. I tucked in my panties like a proper lady, looked this way and that in the Target mirror, ignored the peculiar underwear lumps, changed back into my clothes, and bought me a bikini. Upon arriving home, I got the detested task of Hygenic Liner Removal over with quickly and chucked the suit into the dirty clothes for proper sanitation.

It was hours - HOURS! - later, that I kicked my shoes off to relax and almost threw up all over the couch. Firmly embedded into my sock from several hours of walking, and apparently leftover from my Target dressing room experience, I found this:

HURLP!!! Gasp! What happened there? Does this mean that someone actually peeled one out in the dressing room and left it on the floor? Which means they didn't wash their hands after touching it? And then I stepped on it and wore it around?! Think about what's now on the inside of my shoe! My foot could get an STD! I am still flabbergasted. Flummoxed. Aghast.

In closing, I officially add this, the Hygenic Liner, to my category of Things That Are Really Nasty. If anyone perchance has insight into this invention, please enlighten me.