Monday, July 27, 2015
Life (Goes on) = Managing Ass(holes)
Today is day one of my vacation. Finally. A year ago today, Aaron and I met in a Greek restaurant, and we've been resolving to mend ever since. This morning, the day started with the great dane shitting all over the kitchen, because at 11 years old (dane lifespans are 6-8 years) her asshole just basically doesn't work anymore, the rubber band is worn out on it. I'm the woman, so project management of the dane's bowels falls to me. This afternoon, Jackie arrives for a 3-week visit, the first time she or anyone outside our immediate family has seen Aaron since last year. She will require constant meals and moderated but steady wine, otherwise she rummages in the back of the fridge, eats things that have been in their since the jurassic age, and sneak-drinks kettle one shots over frozen blobs of minute maid limeade, habits which are not advisable for her also aging ass presumably. Aaron is the man, so grilling food stuffs and keeping wine glasses full falls to him. Etc.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Friday, July 10, 2015
Thursday, July 09, 2015
huh.
I hear my mother coming out of my own mouth more and more, even by the voice in my own head. That's what she'd say about that article, "huh", as in "welp ya don't see that every day!" I'm sitting here drinking coffee, reading morning news feeds, internally clucking, "huh" and "o my!" Then I'll think "I should exercise before I get ready" and I won't. Then I'll look for something to wear that's "comfy for me", I.e. that won't hug my ass so tightly that it reminds me to exercise all damn day. I'll forget to eat, then ravenous by the time I'm making dinner, I'll shove ingredients into my mouth raw, probably talking around them as I go. I will inevitably tell a story in which I come off as an idiot then I'll laugh at my own story. From dawn to dusk like that I morph into my mother over time more and more.
And so do you. Think about that.
I hear my mother coming out of my own mouth more and more, even by the voice in my own head. That's what she'd say about that article, "huh", as in "welp ya don't see that every day!" I'm sitting here drinking coffee, reading morning news feeds, internally clucking, "huh" and "o my!" Then I'll think "I should exercise before I get ready" and I won't. Then I'll look for something to wear that's "comfy for me", I.e. that won't hug my ass so tightly that it reminds me to exercise all damn day. I'll forget to eat, then ravenous by the time I'm making dinner, I'll shove ingredients into my mouth raw, probably talking around them as I go. I will inevitably tell a story in which I come off as an idiot then I'll laugh at my own story. From dawn to dusk like that I morph into my mother over time more and more.
And so do you. Think about that.