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the latest waddle:

good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03

elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01

building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19

ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09

my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04

2009-04-16 ... 10:27 a.m.

Bonjour! Happy Thursday! I am weirdly pleased with myself today. Hopefully that does not mean that I am cruising for a karmic bruising. I am pleased with my appearance, even though I am wearing short sleeves (omg, ARMS!) I am pleased with my no-makeup face, and ready to pledge my unswerving devotion to the cult-like Paula's Choice skincare line, the only face products on this earth that don't make me itch. I am pleased that I am actually ahead of the timeline on a work project, and pleased with the Dinosaur Jr-heavy playlist that contributed to that productivity. In conclusion: pleased.


Last month the school nurse called and said there was too much space between Nora's hepatitis B shots, and that she needed another booster. I am no Jenny McCarthy and I adore having my child injected with any manner of life-saving biological preparations, so I said sure, we're going for a yearly checkup over spring break, the doctor will jab her then. Right after he plots her tiny shameful percentile on the "growth" chart. And yea, verily, he did. And I obtained proof of said injection, and on the first day back to school I walked the form into the office. And now I am going to stop with the Old Testament cadence.

When I showed up with the vaccination forms, sweating in my coat and late for work, it took about ten minutes for any of the women working there to even make eye contact. They were extremely busy filling their candy dishes and gabbing with their friends, while phones went unanswered and sweaty parents (me) stood around futilely waving pieces of paper. Finally one of them sauntered over and seemed totally flummoxed by my simple vaccination story. She also acted like the form ITSELF was coated with hepatitis B and really did not want to take it and file it anywhere useful. "Uh...why don't you see if the nurse is in her office." When I reported back that the nurse was not, in fact, in her office, it was clear that the woman was out of ideas, but eventually she told me to leave it in the nurse's mailbox. Which I did. La la la.

Yesterday, I received a NOTICE OF EXCLUSION from the school nurse, which said that Nora could not attend class until she had received a hepatitis B booster.


I left a DISpleased message on the office voicemail, had the doctor's office fax over another form in case the first one had been lost or eaten or torn up and used as confetti by the dumbass office workers, and prepared to once again walk Nora into school and miss my train while I dealt with this bullshit. While I was waiting for the office staff to stop eating paste or whatever other low-IQ timewasters they were engaging in, I decided to mosey over to the nurse's mailbox. Where lo and behold, I found Nora's vaccination form, apparently untouched.

Needless to say, Nora is in school today, as she shall be every day it is open, barring illness or a vacation too kick-ass to skip.* I only had to use a single-serving size of Whoop-Ass and my Stern Voice turned up to two-thirds power. Keep your "notice of exclusion" and check your goddamn mail, the end.

*Incidentally, we had to renew her passport recently and have you gotten a new passport yet? It is so much cooler than the passports of old! It is all thick and rigid (um, ahem) because of the privacy-invading electronics within, and the pages are printed all over with cheesy forgery-proof four-color scenes of Americana. Very cool. I am envious, but it will be a few years before I need to renew.


In a fit of generosity/indulgence some months back, I eBay'd a five-dollar "random lot" of Pokemon cards for Nora. eBay is great for things like loose Star Wars figures and odd bunches of Pokemon cards, especially for kids who are not "collectors" in any sense but the most basic one. Today I received a weird "eBay Member Message" from another user, who had exactly the grammar and logical sentence structure as you would expect from someone who would send such a message, saying something like "I want to buy pokemon cards from (username) did you get anything good lol? let me know thanks!!!!!!" There may have been some emoticons in there as well.

Did I get "anything good"? My kid got Pokemon cards, one hundred of them for five bucks. She's really all about the sheer numbers and I wouldn't know a "good" Pokemon card if I swallowed it. Are there Pokemon cards with LSD soaked into the card stock? That would qualify as "good" in my book.

Similarly, sometimes TiVo will have recorded more than one episode of Nora's favorite shows, and when she's choosing something for her daily TV half-hour she will want to see the plot summary on the screen before deciding. This makes sense for Arthur or some of the superhero shows, but I get exasperated when she asks "what's it about" when the show in question is Pokemon. What's it about? It's about Pokemon, to the extent that it's about anything. I mean really, you can't get more closed-universe than Pokemon. Watch it or don't, but let's not pretend that it has any relevance or coherency.


My friend Matt had a theory that anything that would be a good name for a bar, racehorse, or mixed drink would also be a good name for the other two things in that list. This is especially true for at least one value of x: COCKPUNCHER! It's Cockpuncher by a nose! Meet me down at Cockpuncher's* after work! I need a vodka gimlet and a cockpuncher over at table 7!

I like Cockpuncher best for a bar, though. I can picture a logo with a stylized crotch and a stylized fist coming in from the left. I like the ambiguity of not knowing whether its "get so drunk you feel as if you've been” or "drink so much you can no longer fight the urge to."

Cockpuncher would also be a great arcade-style game. Either a video game like Street Fighter (but with a lot of cheap shots), or else something more along the lines of Whack-A-Mole.

*What do you think, apostrophe or no? Is it a cockpuncher's bar? Or is it more along the lines of "we're all cockpunchers here"? I can't decide.

---mimi smartypants takes 100% of the blame.


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