the man with all the toooooooooys

its the holidays, so holiday thought, kind of.

the title of the post is also the title of a beach boys christmas song if you must know, and i LOVED it as a small child. i remember the record jacket for the album. i believe it showed the beach boys decorating a christmas tree and they were all wearing the same outfit. even at 4, i knew that grown men wearing the same outfit was not normal. i'm a little upset, because now my beloved beach boys album has become standard muzak listening at the local rite-aid.

i like giving gifts better than receiving them. its not because i'm a martyr, its just because i'm really bad at the forced gratitude thing. i am more likely to congratulate someone on the extreme effort it took them to brave the lines at target to buy my gift over thanking them for the gift itself. i know, weird.

i don't like the stupid cinnamon scented pine cones at the grocery store. they put them out before halloween and they stink up the entrance until after new years.

new holiday drink alert. champagne and goldschlager makes a mean drink. AND its a new favorite because its one of those magical concoctions that takes two kinds of alcohol and makes them taste, ummm, not like alcohol. magically delicious.

the no doubt song, you can do it. i have been listening to it a lot recently, and i'm puzzled. its quite possible that gwen says "chicken do it" instead of "you can do it." i'm curious.

britney spears' little sister is pregnant. wha?? first of all, my parents would never allow me to LIVE with a boyfriend at 16 and secondly, i was still afraid of the penis at this point, so there would not have been any sexo. nothing says merry christmas like teenage mothers.

candy canes that are anything other than peppermint flavored or any colors except red and white are sacreligious.

this is the first year of my life that my christmas presents have been wrapped before christmas eve. i'm usually the one who waits until 9 p.m. to even start wrapping the mountain. and because i'm anal retentive when it comes to ribbon and bows, its a process.

i miss my dear friend who is in ecuador teaching english to short latinos. i sincerely hope the amoebas move out soon. come home so we can feed you yummy beer and thai chicken pizza!

giving some thanks

first of all, i never update this and i want to be better about it. i'll give it a go from this day forward. i figure i owe it to the .3 people who might actually read this. moving on now.

thanksgiving was fabulous. i'll provide a list as to why.

1) i made a yummy peanut butter cheesecake that was demolished after thanksgiving dinner.
2) i used to think my grandmother's cheesy prayer before thanksgiving dinner was well, cheesy, but its getting to be not so much anymore.
3) making wreaths with my mother and grandmother and alternating between laughter and tears.
4) the grace under fire that the women in my family have demonstrated.
5) being told i remind them of my beautiful amazing aunt whom we miss every day.
6) pounding out christmas carols on the piano and realizing i didn't forget how to read music.
7) watching the fiance drive a tractor down a hill with the 79 year old grandfather riding on the back. and then watching the 79 year old grandfather drive the tractor back up the hill with the fiance riding in the bucket.
8) helping my cousin give a newborn calf its first bottle.
9) shoveling shit out of a calf pen.
10) listening to crazy great uncle frank tell me that the fiance looks AMISH and then ask me "where did he park the horse and buggy?" uhhhh, smoke another one?
11) drinking said crazy great uncle's gift of cheap apple wine and getting a little buzzed with mom and grandma.
12) watching my grandfather tear up listening to the story of how i used to sit at his mother's feet when i was little and jabber about life, while she would nod and smile but not actually hear a damn word i said.

just a few things, but most importantly, seeing the man i love more than anything happy and healthy for the first time in too long.

'i can't spend your love at the grocery store'

i'm totally over this whole "semi-unemployed" thing. i don't really enjoy sitting still, although the divine miss e would probably argue that i do like to sit still. especially if it involves long periods of time in my towel. but anyway, unemployment sucks. i'm not getting as much done as i would like to and you can only spend so much time pounding the pavement and writing variations of the same damn cover letter.

i'm at that point where i'm seriously beginning to question the choice to attend an overpriced private college. on occasion it feels as though i paid/am still paying for some killer lessons in beer pong and bad drunk choices. sure, i could wax poetic about how college helped me to figure out who i was, and maybe in some way its true. but.......not really. the world i lived in during those four years was NOTHING like the one i live in now. i remember less about classes and more about drinking games. i can tell you how to get drunk on a friday night for less than ten dollars, but i'm at a loss when it comes to anything i learned in constitutional law 1, except for the day when the professor kicked a girl out for rustling paper around. that guy was a prick. i learned what is was like to have a broken heart and also to break one. yeah, sorry about that. i also discovered that i will be paying an additional 50% of my principal student loan balance, just in interest. since when did education become a privilege instead of a right?

you suck at life

its a terrible tragedy when people who truly want children are physically unable to conceive. it always seems like the people who would make great parents aren't able to become parents in a natural way. for those people, there are obviously other avenues toward having children both naturally and through adoption. but for some, even with these alternatives, it just is not possible. SOOO, when i read a headline that says "couple sues over twins, wanted baby" i get a bit riled.


my understanding of some of the basic facts of this case may be fuzzy because i didn't do any extensive research into it. basically, a couple from australia decided they wanted to have a baby, and so they chose to go the route of in-vitro fertilization. now, this is a horribly expensive procedure in the u.s. but apparently in australia, there are PUBLICLY funded programs to alleviate the costs. now, this couple signed a consent form saying that more than one embryo could be implanted, but told their doctor that they wanted only one baby. apparently more than one embryo was implanted and now the couple has THREE YEAR OLD twins, and they've decided to sue the doctor.


i can respect the fact that this couple got more than they bargained for, but filing a public lawsuit that involves your children and the fact that you didn't WANT one of them? can you imagine what will happen when those two children get older, because they will eventually find out about this. we live in an age where people know too much, so finding out about their parent's lawsuit is inevitable. i used to like australians, but now i'm going to have to re-evalute my position.

love my baby motha, i never let her go

i thought that since dmx is currently in hot water over dog stuff, that he might appreciate a post that serves as an homage to his late 90's hit. i remember listening to that song for the first time during week #1 at syracuse. i had a very white roommate from new hampshire, who had a penchant for gangsta rap. needless to say, my musical universe was rocked.

just the other day, i was thinking about how i haven't really come into contact with any new music that i've fallen in love with. it seemed like that happened CONSTANTLY in college, but i have a funny feeling that napster plus kazaa had something to do with it. now that i have to pay 99 cents per song on itunes, i'm a bit more careful with new music.


different subject entirely. definitely had an interesting weekend. played some beer pong, which i don't believe i've done it a few years. i actually didn't suck which made me thank my lucky stars for my overpriced education. made about 2 dozen cupcakes for my dear friend leaving for the dirty south, south america that is.

its more than a truck

money sucks. people who have it abuse it, and people who don't have it, want it for various reasons. this is part of the reason why i'm getting seriously disillusioned with all of this grown-up bullcrap. enough already, i just want to ride my bike with the spoke-clackers and play with my goddamn jem doll! i actually had two of them. both were given to me on the same birthday i believe, and if i remember correctly, a girl named jessica jordan gave one of them to me. jessica jordan and i competed in kindergarten about who would get to do ballet dances for the rest of the class. our teacher was only about 400 years old so i think she just didn't have the strength to argue with two little girls who just wanted to dance for charlie bellows (he's a different post altogether).
back to the issue at hand. fiance (lets call him mayer) and i have had, for lack of a better word, a poo-tastic year and a half. more has been heaped upon our collective plate than some couples experience within the course of a lifetime. and no, i'm not being dramatic. due to unforeseen circumstances, mayer has been unable to drive his beloved truck for about a year now. we still pay for said vehicle, insurance and all. but while examining our finances this past weekend, we both had an awakening. we realized that if we sold the truck, we could not only pay off our credit cards with the remaining cash, but we could pay for a large chunk of our wedding and also have a bit left over for a nest egg/rainy day. this is HUGE and exciting, but i'm sad about it. that truck, believe it or not, represents more than just a gas-guzzling monster to me. it reminds of much easier times, and at times, happier ones. i have memories of road trips and silliness. its totally corny, but during the formative first months of our relationship, mayer and i spent a TON of time in the truck we fondly refer to as "ortizzle dizzle." i've fallen asleep in that truck with my head resting against mayer and his arm wrapped around me more times than i can remember. the truck has hauled our belongings from apartment to apartment, survived a boston parking garage it NEVER should have fit into, moved the belongings of our friends. i've sung many a song to my beloved mayer sitting shotgun in that truck. its the place where i first discovered mayer's love for reggae and punk music. its even been the site of a few scandalous moments that should never take place in a car for obvious reasons.
i remember traveling route 26 to sunday river for skiing on a night when NO ONE was on the roads. there was literally eight inches of snow on the road and i felt nothing but safe while we ate pecan pie with our hands out of the plate it had been baked in. i have pictures of mayer driving, his right hand steadily gripping the wheel, staring straight ahead at the road, while smiling at me. whenever we were in the car for more than 10 minutes, i would always scoot over into the middle section of the front seat in order to be closer to mayer. it meant i could kiss him while he drove and attempt to distract him. i used to take the bus down to visit mayer on the weekends during the infancy of our relationship. on cold friday evenings during the winter, i always knew that when the bus pulled into the station, i would see the driver's side door to the big black truck open and mayer would pop out ready to greet me with warm bear hugs and fabulous kisses. ortizzle would be warm and cozy and we would head off.
i also remember the very first full weekend mayer and i spent together. my sister and a mutual friend drove me down to meet mayer. we spotted him circling the parking lot and soon saw that there were a dozen red roses sitting on the passenger seat where i was to soon sit.

i'm trying my damndest to remind myself that there are other trucks in this world. but for some reason, i'm having trouble letting this one go. its not just a truck. it represents a time when things were so much easier, and we were so madly in love and terribly naive. maybe its fitting that the truck will most likely be leaving us soon. maybe its time to move one to bigger and better things and jump-start our future. i guess i can thank the truck.

in honor of new beginnings

"jubilee"

i can tell by the way you're walking

that you don't want company

i'll let you alone and i'll let you walk on

and in your own good time you'll be

back where the sun can find you

under the wise wishing tree

and with all of them made

we'll lie under the shade

and call it a jubilee

i can tell by the way you're talking

that the past isn't letting you go

but there's only so long

you can take it all on

then the wrong's gotta be on its own

and when you're ready to leave it behind you

you'll look back and all that you'll see

is the wreckage and rust that you left in the dust

on your way to the jubilee

i can tell by the way you're listening

that you're still expecting to hear

your name being called like a summons to all

who have failed to account for their doubts and their fears

they can't add up to much without you

and so if it were just up to me

i'd take hold of your hand

saying come here the band

play your song at the jubilee

i can tell by the way you're searching

for something you can't even name

that you haven't been able

to come to the table

simply glad that you came

and when you feel like this try to imagine

that we're all like frail boats on the sea

just scanning the night

for that great guiding light

announcing the jubilee

i can tell by the way you're standing

with your eyes filling with tears

that its habit alone

keeps you turning for home

even though your home is right here

where the people who love you are gathered

under the wise wishing tree

may we all be considered

then straight on delivered

down to the jubilee

cause the people who love you are waiting

and they'll wait just as long as need be

when we look back and say, those were halcion days

we're talking about jubilee

how is it that two people can be dealing with and going through the same situation, and yet see said situation SOOO differently that they can't even stand to be in the same room together? one of the people must be living in some sort of alternate universe in order for this to occur, but which one is it? usually, i find that the sane person is the one who thinks that maybe they're crazy and the one who is actually crazy thinks they've handled the situation in an acceptable manner and done little to nothing wrong. unfortunately, i'm the sane one. today, i'd rather be crazy and oblivious.

"you're a fake and a phony and i wish i never laid eyes on you"

reasons why your shit stinks (even though you're determind to convince the population otherwise)



1) you are not a nice person

2) everyone has stinky shit

3) i see right through you (i walk right through -oo-oo-oo-oo-oo you--oo, thanks alanis)

GOOD STUFF

while looking through some of my old stuff in the attempt to clean house (or at least the office), i came across a sheet of paper. written in red ink and very small writing, its a list of good things i made sometime during my junior or senior year of college. just thought i would share.


GOOD STUFF
* Duck Hunt
*my IR professor
*daydreaming
*warm towels
*red pens
*iced mochas
*cheeseburgers
*building fairy houses
*teaching 3rd graders how to canoe
*swimming in lakes
*chewing gum
*my fleece blanket
*napping with a partner
*Hall of Languages
*basketball in the barn
*samma
*the "you're dumb" game
*sandals
*mind erasers
*BLTs with no tomato

back when i was smart.....

i have this folder that i like to call "the greatest hits." its basically a conglomeration of hard copies of the better assignments i did in college. i was perusing said folder just now, and i'm so much dumber than i used to be. i don't understand how one goes from being smart to stupidly dumb. seriously. an explanation.

monstro

i'm puzzled by the whole dynamic brought about by in-laws/future in-laws. i thought we were supposed to become family, or at the very least friendly?? not so sure when everyone lost sight of that, or maybe that ideal was never in sight in the first place. i know my family is not difficult or high maintenance, so dealing with both difficultility (new word) and high maintenanceness (again), is something entirely new for me. i tend to be (read always am) one of those people who shies away from conflict of any kind and would rather just let things fester in lieu of actually having a confrontation and dealing. i know its total playground behavior, but its just the way i operate. i've been working on it, but its a slow process.
so here is my ultimate question. why in the world would the fmil accuse the fiance and i of NOT informing her of the new wedding date? please people, that borders on criminal. i understand that i can be a flake sometimes, but i distinctly remember doing this. i may even remember what i was wearing, but i'm not entirely sure. regardless, why must this be an issue in the first place? whatever happened to acting your age and INQUIRING instead of accusing? i seriously can't deal and i'm getting super excited to deal with more issues like this in the future.

ode to letterman a la northeast harbor

top 7 things to do in northeast harbor:



1) drive to seal harbor and guess which house is martha stewart's

2) go into the "bull in a china shop" shop and listen to the rich batshit crazy old ladies SCREAM about how their limoges creamer isn't in yet.

3) go to the pool club so you can enjoy the ocean.....but in a pool. psssst, the pool is full of ocean water! but you don't have to bring a towel so maybe that makes it ok?

4) drive by the mansion you stayed in last summer numerous times and say a silent little prayer that the divorce procedings will finally be taken care of next summer so that maybe you don't have to stay in the mold palace again.

5) be the only one on tennis club grounds not dressed entirely in white.

6) make sure you go down the steps to sand beach in flip flops so you can severely sprain your ankle and ruin your new exercise routine.

7) put your bike in a sheltered spot on the porch, only to have it moved to make room for the GARBAGE.

MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY!!!

i have some very definite ideas with respect to parenting. i don't know if it is because my mother is the coolest cucumber in the garden or what, but i absolutely won't do certain things. the following article pretty much sums up my feelings.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19762056/site/newsweek/page/0/
the end

the sky fell

i will try to connect

all the pieces you left

i will carry it all

and let you forget

and i'll remember the years

when your mind was clear

how the laughter and life

filled up this silent house

britney spears and the case for sterilization

i don't like britney spears. i never have and i never will. no, i haven't met her and no, i don't ever care to. i also have a small addiction to perezhilton, so my information regarding the trampity tramp tramp tramp comes directly from his oh so gay fingertips.
first of all, i personally believe that once a person who is not a) of an extremely low-level IQ or has not b) been on anti-psychotics for the majority of their life, has any excuse for behaving in the manner that the aforementioned "pop-tart" has behaved. i would like to think that no matter how you were brought up or what you went through, that at some point people come to a place where they are willing to take responsibility for their actions. also, i would like to think that people are able to distinguish a good decision from a bad one. case in point = walking around los angeles looking like a prostitute. not necessarily the best decision for a person to make. if you're an attention starved piece of shit then by all means, tramp away.

for just a moment, i would like to point out that her music is shitsy. its like listening to a 12 year old boy sing a song dedicated to his boyfriend being backed up by an old school pre-recorded beat from a yamaha keyboard. ass.

truthfully, i'm not entirely sure what brought this on. just a general disdain for people who suck at life i suppose.

when i'm not myself (thanks john mayer)

i think this post is more for my own benefit than that of anyone who may take the 3 minutes to read it. i know i haven't been myself for a while now, but i promise that if people give me the chance i'll make it back there eventually. unfortunately, there is no map and it seems like whenever i feel as though i'm getting back to the old lo something bites my ass again. this time it was another episode of paramedics and the emergency room which often leaves me with the inability to sleep and therefore i'm just a constant zombie. i don't mean to neglect my near and dear, but it always seems to happen. its a strange sort of self-preservation, but also a sick cycle that i'm not quite sure how to break.
i don't want to be the downer, but i know i have been lately. and now i feel as though i'm starting to pay for it. i don't want to be blamed, i'm just trying to survive and get through each day as it comes. i feel like this is all anyone can truly expect from anyone ever. this is compounded by the fact that i have an aversion to asking for help. it is to the point where if i happened to be in the desert dying of thirst and there was a man ten feet from me with plenty of water, i probably wouldn't ask him because it would mean inconveniencing him and making him walk ten feet in my direction. its infuriating but demonstrated by the fact that i need a ride to the airport on thursday afternoon, but i won't ask anyone because i don't want them to do anything that might interrupt their schedules. so instead, i'll drive myself and pay the $40 to park for the weekend. isn't the first step realization of your idiocy?

disfriggingturbed

i don't usually get this worked up about something as trivial as a tv show, but grey's anatomy really pissed me off tonight. its not real life, it doesn't happen, i understand that. but seriously, i couldn't handle it. i have never gotten so mad at fictional characters in all of my life. i don't know that i've ever been that mad at ANYONE in my life. maybe it struck a chord, something lying deep within me that needed the proper provocation to rear its ugly head. who the hell knows. what i do know is as follows;
1)meredith is a fucktard.
2)burke is a toolbox.
3)christina is.......well don't even get me started on what she is.
4) derek is spineless.
5)mcsteamy is a dreamboat (and the only one i'm not currently in a "fight"with)
6)george will become a professional fish slinger at the seattle public market and izzie will go back to being bethany whisper or whatever the hell she was in order to support them both.
THAT GIRL BETTER GIVE A BABY TO DR. WEBBER AND ADELLE! ONE IS ENOUGH FOR EVERYONE!!!!! (or so says Willy Wonka)

fyi

A - Available or Single? neither
B - Best Friend? booboo, the divine miss em, cupcake.
C - Cake or Pie? as long as they don't have berries anywhere near them, i don't care.
D - Drink of Choice? water, miller lite
E - Essential Item(s)? phone (unfortunately), chapstick, keys, ipod, notebook & pen
F - Favorite Color? greens
G - Gummi Bears or Worms? bears, i bite the heads off first and giggle. worms gross me out, i avoid them at all costs. they can slither back into the cracks in the pavement and suck it.
H - Hometown? home of the purple panthers
I - Indulgence? avocado/oatmeal face masks.
J - January or February? both have bad juju
K - Kids? eventually
L - Life is incomplete without: beer and rainbows.
M - Marriage Date? September 20, 2008
N - Number of Siblings? One
O - Oranges or Apples? peaches or maybe clementines
P - Phobias/Fears? regret
Q - Favorite Quote: “ you whack, you twisted, your girls a ho. you broke, the kid ain't yours and everybody know."
R - Reasons to Smile? listening to my grandfather tell family stories, my little friends, planning a wedding that involves kegs.
S - Season? fall, hands down. the other three can eat a you know what.
T - Tag Three: no, i won't
U - Unknown Fact About Me: i hate knocking on people's doors.
V - Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animals? i'm an equal opportunity oppressor
W - Worst habits? nail biting, over-analyzing, worrying. you think there might be anxiety issues?:)
X - X-rays or Ultrasounds? i try to avoid medical procedures
Y - Your Favorite Foods? they change. currently: kalamata olives, roasted almond gelato from whole foods, kettle corn, orange bell peppers,
Z – Zodiac? pisces

muffinsky

today is buckaroo's birthday and he turns 7. i love this child and his brother so very much. i think its the closest thing i could have to my own children without actually giving birth. being their nanny for the past two years has truly been the best of times.....and the worst of times. i have learned so many lessons concerning what to do, or in some cases to NOT do when it comes to raising children. i've compiled a list for you (more to add later). the catalyst for this list was the fact that i had to wrap the following gifts (no boxes were available to assist me).
*lacrosse stick
*baseball bat
*electronic keyboard (in the box thank god)
*golf club
LESSON #1 = unless you have ebola, you get your ass out of bed and sit at the breakfast table with your child on their birthday. you also attend the birthday dinner unless dr. soandso won't let you out of the plastic bubble long enough to be able to do so.
LESSON #2 = don't make the nanny wrap the presents that you picked out for the child's birthday (especially when the nanny is the most anal retentive gift wrapper in 207 and there is nothing for her to wrap with except leftover christmas paper and GASP........MASKING TAPE) it was a horrifying experience.
LESSON #3 = just do the damn laundry

highlight of the day = listening to the muffin in the backseat of my car sing "who can take the thunrise, thprinkle it wis dew" and then tell me , "i juth love you lo"

don't mess with the mountaineer

in college, a friend of a friend did mascot duty. the rumor was that there was an intense audition process in order to play the part of otto the orange during football and basketball games at good old syracuse (YAY!). 'otto' was a big fluffy orange that did lots of silly tricks during commercial breaks and after touchdowns. sometimes, otto even got put into random stunts with the cheerleaders. the big orange also did this thing that was sometimes referred to as the 'otto bounce.' it involved tucking the knees into the bottom of the ginormous orange costume so it basically looked like otto was an orange with just feet and no legs. then, otto would bounce. HIGHlarious, but you probably had to be there. and of course, lets not forget the obligatory 'fight' that otto was supposed to have with the opposing team's mascot at some point during the event. this ranged from angry finger pointing, to mock boxing and everything in between. sooo anyway, this friend was pulling mascot duty as otto at west virginia during a football game and was preparing to get involved in THE FIGHT. apparently, the west virginia mountaineer was pissed that he had to dress up like davy crockett and was TOTALLY jealous of otto's bangin' ball of fluff because the mountaineer body-slammed said friend of a friend, and broke his leg. don't mess with the mountaineer, or your femur may end up broken.

ikea

i have this very odd shopping habit. it reared its ugly head during a trip to new england's one and only ikea store last weekend. i'll discuss ikea (aka my new lover) in a bit, but first this habit thing.
i believe that this springs from my inability to make decisions on occasion, or lots of occasions, depends on the weather. i'll see something i like a lot, pick it up, carry it around and then PUT IT BACK. maybe its a psychological thing where if i have it in my possession long enough, then i get sick of it and don't like it anymore. most often, i find myself doing this with clothing, but in ikea it was with a duvet set. i had been pining over said duvet set online for a while and had decided to buy it. so, i found it, picked it up and put it in my ginormous blue bag that ikea provides and walked around for a good 45 minutes before making my way back to the bedding section and depositing it back on the shelf. now, i'm thankful that i saved $40, but, i fear that this inability to commit to even the simplest of purchases is a sign of something larger. who the hell knows? maybe i'm just a dork.

onto ikea. despite the fact that its kind of in the middle of nowheresville, i heart it. granted, some of the furniture strikes me as way too jetsons-esque, but i cannot get past the idea that you can buy glasses for fifty cents a piece. thats cheaper than goodwill and its brand new. i don't love the idea of yet another block of cement taking up space in the wilderness, but i guess my 'hippie at heart' nature can deal when it comes to cool, cheap furniture. no more bob's discount pit for me. we're moving up in the world.

the first

for those of you who know me even remotely well, you know what i do for a living. for those of you who don't, i'm a 'nanny'. my job description should be 'take care of children.' instead, it has grown to encompass the following; dog walker, food cooker, grocery shopper, laundry folder, errand runner, chauffeur, do-er of dishes, schedule maker, the list goes on and on. the ad i answered in the paper two years ago should have gone something like this:

WANTED: someone to do all of the things we don't want to do, oh and by the way, take care of our kids while you're at it.

some people dream of having their own office in the corner of the building, i'd settle for the corner of a cubicle right now. hell, you can put me in the hallway if it means i don't have to hook the damned carseat into my car one more time.
don't get me wrong, there has been a lot of good that has come along with this job. the best perk by far has been the OUTRAGEOUS stories that revolve around this family unit. i seriously could not make this shit up. for instance, there is a grandmother from nyc, lets refer to her as MM, who comes to visit every so often and usually i end up carting her around at least once during her sojourns north. her most favorite thing to do is go to target. i think it makes her feel closer to the common man. i adore target as well, but not when MM is along. the best trip was last fall when she had her all black, all spandex outfit on, with the enormous chanel sunglasses, huge marc jacobs bag AND baby blue crocs. lets not forget about the baby blue pashmina that topped it all off and the perfectly coiffed hair that took half a lifetime to perfect while buckaroo and i sat in the car listening to raffi sing his version of 'yellow submarine.'
once we were in target, the fun really started. we were there to find dumb things like hairspray and toothbrushes but MM just could not make it more than 7 feet without finding something that she deemed "divine." i like target and all. i would even go so far as to say that i somewhere between 'more than like' and 'love' target, kind of like the guy you were 'seeing' in high school. i would not however, call anything i find at target 'divine.' but i digress.
we were just about to pass the underthings section of target when MM spotted bras that just needed to be talked about. she went on to wax poetic about how fabulous this certain bra was and blah blah blah. i remember nothing that she said except for "look, its just like the one i'm wearing right now." she then proceded to LIFT UP HER SHIRT AND SHOW ME HER BRA AND HER 60SOMETHING YEAR OLD BOOBS! what do you do? its like those books from grade school, choose your own adventure or something stupid like that. what choice do you make? do you a) tell crazy to put her shirt back on, that this is new england, not a nudist colony, b) laugh in her face or c) nod and smile and make a mental note to remember this for your memoirs. i just smiled and said "look MM, there are the fake uggs you wanted to look at." her reply, "oh lo darling, you're just too divine."

funny little kid story of the day:
i took the family dog to the green mountains last weekend while my employers were on vacation in jamaica (more on that later). said dog had a great time except for being violated by my cousin's dog who happens to be unfixed. it was a truly funny scene to watch poor girl dog drag her butt on the ground so as to avoid unwanted advances from horny boy dog. sooo, i was relaying this story to dog's owner today and my favorite 6 year old, lets call him buckaroo, says to me "what does violate mean, is that something grownups do to each other?"