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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

2008-11-24 ... 2:51 p.m.


1. Lately when I drive I sometimes suffer from a variation on the classic OCD "did I hit someone" thing, where instead I fret and wonder if someone just hit me. Like when I was driving next to a garbage truck and heard an odd noise, and as I passed the truck I couldn't stop obsessing over whether it had scraped or grazed or bumped my car somehow, which is ridiculous and irrational (like all good obsessions). We were going forty miles per hour down Western Avenue; if a garbage truck had even touched my Toyota it would not be an open question.

2. I managed to get in a screaming fight with a stranger, a fancy-pants Arab teenager in a silver BMW who came ZOOMING around the corner of my alley and then actually SPED UP when he saw me instead of apologetically hitting the brakes like a normal person. So I flipped him the bird with my be-gloved hand. You know, as you do. EAT MY THINSULATE!

The kid backed up, turned the corner, caught up with me, and rolled down his window. Then the following sparkling and intellectual conversation was had, during which he inched along like an idiot while I kept walking:

Fancy-Pants Dickhead: You shouldn't talk to people like that. [ed. note: flipping the bird is not "talking," but it is communication so we won't quibble.]
Me: You shouldn't drive in the alley like that.
F-PD: Stupid bitch, I should have hit you.
Me: And I should have called the cops on you, douchebag.
F-PD: Fuck you, whore.
Me: Fuck your mother.

He then stepped on the gas and sped off, presumably to fuck his mother on my say-so. Hurry! Gotta go! It's mother-fucking time!

3. Although I love my work-from-home days, I probably should not make them a full-time thing. It gets a bit disturbing when I realize exactly how often I talk to myself, devise rituals like singing a certain made-up song every time I pee, and perform experiments to see if I can prevent the cats from sleeping. WAKE UP CATS! (Eventually they hide somewhere I can't find them. Thus, results have been inconclusive.)

4. That synth-tastic "Cars" song came on the grocery store music system while I shopped and I had no choice but to improvise a spazzy dance right there in the aisle. Hooray for New-Wave grocery store! Have you ever done the Robot while holding a box of Wheat Thins? I have.


Last year I hosted Thanksgiving for the first time and it was very fun. I love making Giant Menu Battle Attack plans and I also love drinking wine in my own house. And now we have a gorgeous new kitchen and everything! So I was sort of hoping that I could become the Thanksgiving default setting but no, my mother-in-law has "suggested" that we alternate years. Can you really say no to that without seeming like a bitch? So we will trek out to the country. The bright spot is that MIL also suggested that we draw names for the adult Christmas-gift exchange, which means that I will only have to buy a gift for one baffling and seldom-seen relative instead of many. And I get to focus on the fun part of Christmas shopping: toys! So far Nora's list contains a nice balance between crap (Pokemon and Ben 10 stuff) and education (slime-making kits, owl pellets, modeling clay). I approve. It wouldn't be Christmas without crap, but a girl needs her science too.

---mimi smartypants: no turkey, just pie.


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