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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


2003-12-12 ... 1:48 p.m.

IF I WERE SIXTEEN YEARS OLD I MIGHT CALL THIS ENTRY "RANDOM THOUGHTS"

1. You know what is amazing about marijuana? Besides the fact that it is illegal, even though to my knowledge no one has ever committed armed robbery or carjacking while under its influence, or even indeed done much of anything, besides giggle and (if you are me) discover the strange urge to explore the world with one's tongue? What is amazing about...oh yeah, about marijuana (sorry, some short-term memory loss there) is how many different types of people smoke it. And when I say "smoke," I don't mean "all day, every day" but rather "have tried it, found it pleasurable, would not be adverse to doing it again." Trixies with Coach bags and highlighted hair smoke pot. Tough-looking Mexican guys with flannel shirts and hairnets smoke pot. Nerds get together for nerdy role-playing games, and smoke pot. Moms and dads and construction workers and college professors and insurance agents smoke pot. Rappers, punk bands, jazz bands, reggae bands, heavy metal bands, they all smoke pot. There are not many other drugs as egalitarian and widely used. All kinds of people drink alcohol, but what you drink has a lot to do with race and class, mommy-subsidized hipsters with their cans of PBR notwithstanding.

Although I am not that fond of the appellation "pot" for marijuana, there is something pleasingly assonant about the phrase "smoke pot." "Weed" is too skater-boy for me, and "dope" is too generic. I once had a mild crush on a Russian major with a super-soft voice, and she used to call it "grass," which is just all cute and retro-beatnik, so I think that is my favorite drug slang term. No wait, I think my favorite drug slang term is "eating." With the help of the White House Drug Policy Street Terms for Drugs site, we now know that "eating" means "taking a drug orally." Who knew? Those nutty drug addicts, using their mouths to eat and drink! Which is kind of ironic, since Mork was obviously so much more coked-up than Mindy, and he never used his mouth to eat or drink!

Have you been sitting at home and wondering, "When will Mimi Smartypants have one of those little seizures again, the ones where she goes over the edge once more on the non-drowsy antihistamines and the tea, loses all sense of propriety, makes reference to Mork and Mindy on her website, and starts e-mailing nude photos of herself to everyone in her address book?" WELL PEOPLE WE ARE HALFWAY THERE.

2. Media things I have enjoyed lately, maybe you will too: Getting a song over the phone. The Rogers Sisters. Grandaddy. And not a whole damn lot of books. I am still catching up with all the New Yorkers that flooded the mailbox while I was in China, and that languished in a pile now that I do not have my evenings completely free to read. Read anything other than Itsy Bitsy Spider or Everyone's Sleepy or The Monster At the End of This Book, that is. (Note: don't you love how on that page the "theme" of Monster At The End Of This Book is listed as "courage/survival"?) (Note #2: this was my favorite book as a child---even back then I must have been all intrigued by Grover's recognition that he is "in" a book, and the discussion within the text about turning pages. Book qua book, postmodernism for the preschool set.)

3. She's right. I have always had a soft spot for the defenseless---kids, animals, the picked-upon---but I used to be able to read about tragedy and loss without losing it. I used to be able to read an article about child abuse, hunger, neglect, poverty, or illness without crying. A lot. I demand that my new hysteria, my new non-level-headedness where children are concerned, be included in all future "What to Expect" parenting books, because it can't be just me and lord knows I was not prepared for such a thing.

4. Winter is officially here! I have lost my first set of hat/mittens! Except I did not really lose them, because it turns out they were in the car all along. Except that in the meantime I had gone out to Marshall Field's and bought a new hat and a new pair of mittens. I spent too much money on the hat but it makes me so happy, the perfect combination of warm plus stylish, all tilted over to the side like a 1920s flappergirl hat and looking way cute on me. When original (flavor) hat and mittens turned up, I decided not to return new (nacho cheesier) hat and mittens to the store, reasoning that I would undoubtedly need a backup hat and mittens at some point. And about six hours after reaching that conclusion, I left the new mittens in a cab. Although one could conclude from this that I am an absent-minded idiot, I choose to interpret it as a sign of cleverness---I proved my own point! With my idiocy! Go me!

5. The other thing heralding the start of winter is the extreme cold, and with it the first time this season that the weather is a factor in the possible blowing off of my evening plans, in favor of staying home in my robe with TiVo and a six-pack. I am supposed to go to Empty Bottle for the Dishes and This Moment in Black History, but all my friends seem to be AWOL. Maybe they froze to death. And it is not that I am too big a baby to go to a show alone, but it would be a lot more fun with a friend, with whom to snark and giggle. Also, it is below freezing, and would I rather take the bleak Western Avenue bus down to the frozen urine-soaked premises of the venue or watch Nora rock out in her Hello Kitty pajamas? I could always throw the Dishes album and the TMIBH seven-inch on the stereo. Add some spilled beer and a lot of look-at-me-don't-I-look-fabuously-disinterested-in-everything? attitude, and it could be just like the real thing.

6. We have already started a grand family tradition: lying to Nora. The other day LT called me at work for the afternoon update, and said, "We just got back from the aquarium!" I was impressed, as it seemed very ambitious to bundle up the kid in the middle of the day and haul her all the way down to the Chicago Museum Campus, and it also seemed like a very Superdad educational thing to do.

"Well, it was just the pet store," LT said. "But I told her it was the aquarium." I put my foot down when he claimed it also counted as the zoo, because of the gerbils and lizards.

However, we both agree that this photo, taken outside Babies Backwards "R" Us, totally takes the place of a trip to Disneyworld.

Ah shit, you know the entry is over when you start posting the baby pictures. How big is Nora? Very, very big indeed. With bread.

---mimi smartypants will kiss the girl from Venus, for science.

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