Well, here we are, only January 8th and my New Year is already shaping up to be chock-full of bra-exploding drama.
A few highlights (and some lowlights):
- I exercised to a new Xbox video game program but went a little overboard. I did about 100 squats in 45 minutes. The next day I went to sit down and nearly passed out from the pain shooting from my thighs. Now I have flabby thighs AND I don’t want to sit down anymore. My will to live has vanished. So much for that resolution.
- My 9-year-old daughter was very sick with pneumonia. She became ill on Christmas Day and for nearly a week afterward. Funny how everything in your life, every stupid little worry disappears completely when your kid is sick. Last time she had it she was very close to being admitted to the hospital for an IV, so I was very concerned (panicked). Thankfully, her fever finally went away yesterday and she was back to her old cheerful self. She gave me a huge hug last night and said in her sweet grown-up voice, “Thank you for taking care of me, Mommy.” Melted my heart because of course I will always take care of her, that is my job! And the older I get, the more I realize it’s the most important job to me. Everything else I do is just gravy.
- Siri followed me on Twitter. Or to be more accurate, the actual woman behind the voice, Susan Bennett. (I’m still not convinced Siri isn’t a robot sent from Steve Jobs to destroy the human race.) Sure, Siri follows about a million other people, but I was tickled pink. I was so happy I forgave her for that snide tone she took with me last week when I asked her how many squats it would take to burn off one doughnut and she said: “Give up now.”
- I write alt-text for an academic publishing company and completed yet another anatomy textbook today. At this rate, I could easily pass for Dr. House. Or at the very least, I can rattle off every single structure of the male/female genitalia with confidence. I’m certain this skill will come in handy one day.
- My bra exploded.
I was picking up some heavy bags while checking out at Target, went to straighten up and that is the precise moment the metal hooks in my bra decided to break free. I have never had this happen in my life. The force of my wardrobe malfunction was so powerful, my boobs shot out from under their restraints like balls from a cannon. Really sad, floppy cannonballs. It was almost as if my bra was saying, “Nope, uh huh. I ain’t gonna hold your girls back no more. The force of gravity is much too strong. You’re on your own, girlfriend.” The best part was my bra just sadly hung there, slowly sliding down the inside of my sweater as I tried to make small talk with the clerk while simultaneously squishing my boobs together awkwardly with one arm. I must have had a constipated look on my face because my daughter tugged on my sleeve and asked, “Mom, do you gotta go poop?” Later on, after I had told her what had happened to my bra she said, “Why do you have to wear a bra anyway? What is it for?” And I thought, Yeah! What the fuck are they for?! Who needs ’em! So, if you happen to see me again at Target grinning like a fool it’s because I’m free-boobin’ it now. I make no apologies.
- I’m reading a funny book. So funny, I cry with laughter every time I sit down to read it. (okay, I’m mainly crying because of my thighs) It’s John Cleese’s So, Anyway…. It’s a memoir and the way he spins a tale from his youth kills me. He’s got that dry humor I love.
“So, creatively, I was doubly blessed: constant relocation and parental disharmony. Add to these two gifts the well-established fact that many of the world’s greatest geniuses, both artistic and scientific, have been the product of serious maternal deprivation, and I am forced to the conclusion that if only my mother had been just a little more emotionally inadequate, I could have been HUGE.” – John Cleese
One of my fave movies is A Fish Called Wanda (I saw it TWICE at the theater back in the day). But would you believe I NEVER saw a single Monty Python movie? I think it’s because my brothers watched them so much but I refused to stay in the same room with a bunch of rowdy, farting jackholes on purpose.
- I’ll leave you all with a few posts I read recently that you need to check out:
Over at Peg-o-leg’s blog, it’s a coyote-ugly time as Peg bravely ventures out on a walk in the woods in Crouching Tiger, Crapping Coyote.
Blogdramedy explores writer’s block and inspirational memes in The Search For My Words.
Exile on Pain Street contemplates Picasso and other things in This is Picasso’s Brain on Drugs.
Paul Johnson (aka The Good Greatsby) is back writing humor and doing stand-up comedy in 5 Tips for Surviving Your Child’s Christmas Pageant.
Jackie explores what fiction can teach us about life in Why We Read: The Truth.
Steve tries to become a morning person in My New Year’s Resolution