You are currently browsing the monthly archive for August 2008.
As much as I like to think that I don’t go for that identity politics stuff, I must confess that my heart leapt when I read the news today. HE ACTUALLY PICKED THE WOMAN. I don’t even care why. I’m just so happy. I’m just bubbling and babbling with happiness. My Inner Rationalist is cringing. It shouldn’t matter, but somehow it does. It really does.
And thus am I shaken from my stimulant-resistant depression, yes, even to the point that I willingly forsake today’s blog and start cleaning my kitchen and doing the laundry, like I’m supposed to be doing! Girl power! God bless you, Sarah Palin, whoever the hell you are!
In other good news, this gets my vote for Quote of the Week:
“It wasn’t the diaper that saved him. It was God.”
You know, a woman invented the disposable diaper. COINCIDENCE? I think not.
Sugar Daddy and Madhousewife take a moonlit stroll on the beach (with the kids)
Madhousewife: Do you know where we came out at, because I have no idea where we are now.
Sugar Daddy: Well, that’s our hotel over there…and that there is not our hotel. So…
Mad: Har de har.
SD: This is why marriage is between a man and a woman.
Mad: [furrows her eyebrows at him even though it’s dark and she’s invisible]
SD (because he knows she is furrowing her eyebrows at him even though he can’t see her): [Laughs like a jerk]
SD: This is pretty cool, huh? Walking on the beach at night? When have we ever walked on the beach at night?
Mad: To my knowledge we have never been on the beach together at night.
SD: I think the last time I was at the beach after dark, [Some Girl From High School] tried to make out with me.
Mad: What happened there? She “tried” to make out with you? Did she not succeed?
SD: Well, I figured, who was I to argue?
Mad: Sounds like she did make out with you. There was no try.
SD: She wasn’t a very good kisser. Aside from that, she was a lot like you in many ways.
Mad: Because she had no sense of direction?
SD: Eh, she had a big butt.
So I’m back from all my family trips. Our four days at the Oregon coast seem like a million years ago. I was going to tell you all about it, but I only vaguely remember it. Well, I’ll do my best. It was raining the first couple days, of course. When we pulled into Newport, we made a visit to the Hatfield Marine Science Center, which is an extension of Oregon State University. As luck would have it, SD, Mister Bubby and I were all wearing Duck gear—but they let us in anyway, which was right big of them. They have an octopus there, but he was hiding. We saw part of one of his tentacles, though. And there were some anemones and starfish to touch, blah blah, and this thing where you could listen to whale songs and junk. Anyway, that was kind of fun. I would have bought a souvenir magnet, but the only ones that were specifically of the museum had butterflies on them, which I thought was…odd…for a marine science center. They didn’t appear to be especially marine-ish butterflies—not like they had gills or something, so…yeah, I don’t know what that was about. Well, all the more money to spend on souvenir magnets later (which I did).
The next day, as it was still raining, we visited the Oregon Coast Aquarium, which we’d been to before, when Mister Bubby and Princess Zurg were little. It’s mostly indoors. Operative word being “mostly.” Elvis wasn’t particularly interested in staying indoors. He wanted to watch the waterfall, which was outdoors. Also to jump in mud puddles. Anyway, the Oregon Coast Aquarium has kind of spendy admission, but it’s a nice aquarium. My favorite part is where you walk through the tube that’s under the water and you get to see all the fishes and sharks up close. (They’re not great white sharks, but they’re big enough.) Their souvenir magnet selection was also disappointing, but I picked up one with puffins on it because I had at least seen those on my previous visit, so I knew they were actually Of the Aquarium (even though they’re birds…but they didn’t have any shark magnets, so I had to do my best—it was only $3.99, geez).
The next day it was not raining, so we went down to the beach, which was cold, but pretty. I helped MB make a sand castle. SD went in the water with the kids. The water was extra-cold. Our children didn’t care. Girlfriend’s lips turned purple, and I warmed her up in a towel. Elvis kept stealing SD’s sandals and running into the ocean with them. Elvis was a piece of work on this trip, but that’s another story.
We spent a lot of time in the hotel, actually. The hotel pool was filled with sea water. That was pretty cool. Girlfriend kept pooping in her swim diaper. That was kind of…inconvenient. (At least when fecal matter happened, it did not leak out, despite the fact we were using chintzy disposable swim diapers. Yes, this is a shout-out to you, gwennieg.) Even I liked being in the water. A little bit.
When we left Newport, we drove up the coast to Tillamook and visited the cheese factory. We enjoy the cheese factory. We especially enjoy getting ice cream there. I got pistachio pecan because I never turn down the opportunity to eat pistachio ice cream. I never know when I’ll have one again. So that was delicious, and on our way back home, we stopped at the Tillamook Forest Center, or whatever the hee-haw it’s called. That was pretty cool because we got to climb up into the lookout tower, where people used to watch for forest fires. I think I would have been ideal for that job, as I enjoy solitude, were it not for the fact that I’m afraid of heights. And also of fire. Anyway, this forest center had lots of hands-on exhibits for the kiddos, and an excellent selection of souvenir magnets. (I bought two! One was a retro anti-forest fire PSA and the other was a bear—not Smokey, but made out of wood. You know, like from the forest. Speaking of which, I expected that the restroom in the forest center would feature one of those infernal hand dryers. You know, to save trees. But apparently these forestry people aren’t in the business of saving trees. They just replant them, you know. So they had paper towels. My wet hands appreciated this nod to conspicuous consumption.) I think what helped me to enjoy this particular attraction so very much was the fact that it was free. FREE! (Thus enabling my souvenir magnet spree.)
We spent the weekend at home, and then on Monday we visited the Great Wolf Lodge in Centralia, Washington. If you want details about the GWL, see my husband’s blog on the subject. It sufficeth me to say that the GWL, while clean and fun, did not have a favorable price:good ratio. And I’m really glad that water-play season is coming to a close.
Which means that school starts next week! Elvis will be starting kindergarten. I just got his and PZ’s bus schedules, and was displeased to learn that Elvis’s bus arrives at the ungodly hour of 7:42 a.m. School doesn’t start until 8:30, but as his school is at the southernmost part of the school district and we live at the northernmost part and there is no freeway route, a 48-minute commute is not unrealistic. (Would that it were not so, gentle readers, but alas.) The good news is that I will have him on the bus in plenty of time to drive MB to school and be back in time for PZ’s bus. Very favorable timing, assuming they don’t change it. Which they will, but in the meantime, I’m looking at the bright side.
That’s what I told PZ just this morning—there are three choices in life: 1) be sad, 2) stop caring, and 3) look on the bright side. She conceded my point, but still didn’t think it was an adequate response to her concerns. (She is a real #1 type of person. I feel her.) Granted, we were talking about death at the time, but bus schedules, death—tomayto, tomahto. It still holds.
So I’m back from my August vacation. I would tell you about it, but I’m too lazy. But I know you all have missed me something fierce. (Haven’t you?) And so, at my sister’s instigation, I have brought sexy back in the form of Wacky Search Terms:
natchural nude girl – Not just au naturel, NATCHURAL. That’s extra-natural to you and me.
mormon potato buds – I thought this might be a food storage question, but then I got this awesome idea for a craft night.
fish net pants costume vampire – Fish net pants? Fish net pants???
lego pathetic costume – Pathetic costume made of Legos? Lego looking pathetic? “Leggo my pathetic costume”?
black children smeared with vaseline – Wha…?
after airplay no packets received – Hey, I didn’t receive any packets, either. Where are my packets? I want my packets!
my boyfriend treats me like crap – You should leave him. Next!
skipper undergarment – Like, for Barbie’s friend? Or Gilligan’s?
i look like a blow up doll – Wow. That’s…something.
sexy rooster - Uh huh!
sexuall words and meansings – This reminds me, I need to do another post on the relationship between good spelling and getting lucky.
orange tree, giraffe, monkey equality – A giraffe is to a monkey is to an orange tree–why can’t all three live in harmony?
popsicles meaning – I don’t get it.
panty remover – What, do they make machines for this now?
swimming pool larva – EEEWWWWW!!!!
mormon autism giraffe blog – I hope this person was looking for me. Otherwise, I’m freaked out.
mormon feminist swimsuit – I’ve gotten many searches for “mormon swimsuit” and “mormon feminist,” but this is my first for “mormon feminist swimsuit.” Huzzah! What does a Mormon feminist swimsuit look like? I’m guessing a strapless bikini. With a thong.
nurture fear harvest obedience – My parenting philosophy in a nutshell. Oh, wait.
“withhold sex from them” - I have no idea what they’re talking about.
hoity toity lady costumes - I just like that they said “hoity toity.”
how do you spell giraph – Not like that.
fetish who interested in to see lactation – Sorry, buddy, no pictures here.
“sit on his wife” – Maybe because she withheld sex from him?
dishwasher i am a giraffe – I AM NOT A DISHWASHER! I AM A GIRAFFE!
wooden potty chair plans – What is the wooden potty chair planning? I’m sure it’s up to no good.
drunk pregnant movies – What the…?
size and shape of giraffe feces or poop – Sometimes Google scares me.
watching mom put on her sheer pantyhose – I’m sure Freud would have a theory about this.
today im one with giraffe – And I am one with you. You and me and the monkey and orange tree.
sin to read backwards? - Sey naem I. On.
i am flipping exhausted – Small world. I’m freaking exhausted. It’s a little different, but basically the same idea.
the bra in my swimsuit is too big – I was totally just thinking this yesterday!
meshuggah goy – Ah, I get so many searches for gefilte fish, but this is my first meshuggah goy! It’s a proud day for your Giraffe.
do giraffe cry – Would that it were not so, my friend, but yes, they do. Thank you for your concern.
what does beefcake mean in a man – Indeed. What does that mean?
baptist kids jesus sheep giraffe – Whatever this person was looking for, I must find it.
naughty guy grab anime girl boobs – Again with the cartoon perverts. I don’t understand this trend very well.
baby wash dummy dishwasher – Note to self: Baby does not go in dishwasher.
And that’s it for today, folks. I’ll have a real post for you tomorrow, maybe. Maybe.
My family and I are taking a trip to the Oregon coast this week. (Note the deliberate avoidance of the word “vacation.”) Right now I’m supposed to be packing. Or something. After a week of record-breaking temperatures (I’m guessing–I don’t know for sure that they were record-breaking, but they may as well have been), the Oregon rain is finally back. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see rain in my life. And it’s supposed to rain all week while we’re at the coast–yay! Oh, wait, that isn’t good.
Actually, I think it’s only supposed to be cold the first couple days. I think by the time we leave it will be sunny. It’s all good. I don’t care. I’m just along for the ride anyway.
On Saturday we went to the Big Satan’s company picnic. We go to the Big Satan company picnic every year. I don’t enjoy the Big Satan company picnic, but the children do, as does my husband, and if we planned our family activities according to what Madhousewife felt like doing, no one would have any fun, ever. So we went to the company picnic, which featured over 70 different activities (according to the brochure). Usually we spend the first part of the day hanging out by the inflatable bouncy things, then have lunch and…you know, everything after lunch is sort of a blur. I just know it’s the longest day of the year for me. Anyway, this year we didn’t get to the picnic until lunch was starting (folks-going-to-the-beach traffic), so we ate lunch first and then we went swimming. I know! We live dangerously, what can I say.
I have never participated in the water play at the Big Satan company picnic–mostly because I find the logistics of water-play participation constitute an unfavorable ratio of pain-in-the-neckiness to actual fun-ness. I don’t like activities that involve me wearing a bathing suit–not because I don’t like the way I look in a bathing suit (because I actually think I look all right in one–at least now that I live in Oregon and am no longer in high school), but because the process of changing in and out of one in a public location just makes me tired. The thought of it makes me tired, and then I do it and am exhausted afterward. Last year I was holding a sleeping baby while the rest of the Madhousehold hydro-galavanted, but this year I pretty much had to join in because Girlfriend wasn’t about to do any sleeping while there was water fun to be had.
Fortunately for me, it was so effing un-freaking-believably hot this week that you couldn’t have paid me to stay out of the pool. I thought I might stay in there all freaking day, but ’twas not to be. Actually, Girlfriend turned out to be less interested in jumping into the pool first thing. Probably–no, scratch that–definitely because she could sense how very much her mother wanted to be in that pool, and she was conflicted: I want to go swimming, but if I go swimming, Mom will be happy–augh, my brain is exploding! We spent what seemed like an hour but was probably only a half-hour (time crawls when your skin is melting) just hanging out by the beverage table. Thank goodness for free diet Coke. Anyway, eventually Girlfriend agreed to put on her swim trunks (long story), and we went in the pool, and it was the best feeling in the whole wide world. I don’t understand why all 7,000 people (or however many BSCP attendees there were) weren’t in that pool, but I’m grateful there was room for me.
Unfortunately, I have a low tolerance for chlorinated water. It kind of makes me sick, and also, once it gets in my eyes, my mellow is considerably harshed. Do you know that it is very difficult to manage a non-swimming two-year-old in a swimming pool unless you keep your eyes open? Well, it’s true. The gift of sight becomes very important when you add life-guarding duties to the mix. That’s when I became conflicted: My eyes are burning and I’m nauseated, but this water feels so cool…if I could just close my eyes forever and not end up drowning my child…crap, Mister Bubby, stop shooting that water cannon at my face!
Well, eventually we all got out of the pool because they were setting up the huge water slide on the side of the hill. Girlfriend was not happy to be leaving the pool: Mom wants to leave, so I must not want to leave–finally, the world makes sense again! But I dragged her out anyway, and we all stood in line for the big slide. Sugar Daddy has long wanted to get me on this slide, probably because he knows I’m not a fan of water slides, and he considers it his duty to change my mind through intimidation. Anyway, I knew I’d have no excuse for not going on the slide this year, and since it was still so bleeding hot and the water slide didn’t have any chlorine in it, I was okay with the whole thing.
So I went down the water slide twice, and I was all funned out. No, it was a very fun water slide–because it just slides down a big steep hill and doesn’t lead to a pool of water that one plunges into and almost drowns in even though it’s only four feet deep because one is so disoriented from the act of sliding and plunging. Not that I speak from personal experience. Cough. Anyway, it was a very fun water slide, but you know me, there’s only so much fun I can take before I start developing a rash–so I was all done and started thinking about how awesome it would be to go home soon. Like immediately.
I think we stayed for another hour. It felt like longer. Maybe it was longer, I don’t know. I didn’t have a watch, which was good because I might have gone crazy watching the minutes crawl by. I drank some more diet Coke. I lamented the fact that they’d run out of cookies. (They’ve never run out of cookies before! It was the one saving grace of the event, as far as I was concerned.) I needed to do something to take my mind off the fact that I wasn’t anywhere near going home, so I ate a corn dog. Well, I didn’t eat all of it because half-way through I thought, “This is just wrong,” and I went back to just sipping the free diet Coke. (The corn dog was free, too, but that didn’t make it any tastier.) I really could have gone for some cookies right about then. Well, whatever. Eventually we did leave, and that’s what’s important.
I was so tired. I still haven’t quite recuperated. And now I’m going on a trip. To the ocean! More water! More bathing suits! At least it won’t be hot, and there won’t be chlorine. Or corn dogs. I’m bringing my own damn cookies.
I’m going to pack now. After I make the kids some lunch. Phooey.
Sugar Daddy: Your computer’s slow. Are you defragging your hard drive regularly?
Madhousewife: Well, I would, if I knew how to do that.
SD: I gots to learn you how to use a computer, woman.
Mad: No, I think the position you’ve taken is that I’m supposed to sit here and not know anything, and then when I tell you I don’t know anything, you can make fun of me.
SD: Well, that’s closer to the truth.
So I promised you all an update on my latest experiment with psychopharmacology, specifically the FocalinXR. The good news is that I don’t have to tangle with my insurance company anymore over these prescriptions because I am all done with these stimulants, forever. No offense to the FocalinXR, which I’m sure is an awesome wonder drug for people with ADD and ADHD–including adults–but it is apparently not doing much for my problem because at 5 mg I feel no difference, and at 10 mg I want to scream and cry all the time. So I think we’re over that. Yes. All done. Very good. Except for the part about me feeling like crap all the time. But that’s another story.
Speaking of another story, I was driving home the other night and “Working My Way Back to You” by the Four Seasons came on the radio, and I started crying. Why? How should I know? It was disturbing, though. (Not quite as disturbing as that time in 1997 when I wept all the way through a Celine Dion song. Yes, I listened to the whole thing! That was the disturbing part!) But still, an obvious sign that I’m in a fragile emotional state.
And mental, too, because I woke up yesterday morning and couldn’t quite force myself out of bed, and so I was staring at my Joe Cool pajamas and realized for the first time that Snoopy wears his sunglasses with the stems under his ears. And I thought, “That just can’t be comfortable. It’s bugging me just looking at them.” So I stopped looking at them, of course, but it still bugged me. I mean, the more I thought about it, I supposed it made some sense–according to Charles Schulz, Snoopy’s ears are very strong; they keep him balanced on top of his dog house, you know. Well, that’s what he said! And it’s true that I don’t have dog ears, so how would I really know whether or not it’s comfortable to have sunglasses tucked under them or not? And yet, it just didn’t seem right to me.
Okay, I’m off my FocalinXR and obviously not focalizing very well. Have I mentioned also that I’m not sleeping very much? That’s a side issue, though. I wasn’t going to go there. I was just thinking about the name “Focalin” and how lame most prescription drug names are. I mean, “Prozac”: “Pro” + “Zac.” “Pro” sounds okay; it suggests forward movement. “Zac,” on the other hand, just sounds like something you take for crazy. I don’t know why. Because Z is a crazy letter, I guess. It’s probably no coincidence that it figures prominently in the word “crazy.” So “Prozac” makes it sound like you’re moving toward crazy rather than away from it. “Effexor” is a little better; it sounds like “effective,” plus it has an X in it, and X is a letter with super powers. (Hello? X-Men?) “Zoloft” has “loft,” which suggests a lifting of the mood, and that kind of off-sets the unstable Z at the beginning. “Wellbutrin” is another anti-depressant, and obviously, it has the word “well” in it, and that’s self-explanatory, but what kind of suffix is “butrin”? I can’t even begin to think of where one would get that from.
So my psychiatrist and I were making small talk about the lameness of drug brand names, and she thought the lamest one was “Abilify.” I said I actually liked the sound of “Abilify.” I think I like it because it doesn’t even attempt to be subtle. “Right now, you are unable, but this drug will ABILIFY you!” She said Abilify was next on her list of drugs for me to try, right after “Geodon.” Seriously, what the hell? “Geodon”? That’s like…a rock. And I guess I’ll be STEADY AS A ROCK after taking “Geodon.” Part of me still thinks there’s a market for something called “SuperHappyFun Pill,” but no one asked me.
Speaking of names and no one asking, I’ve never understood why people show so little imagination when naming streets. How many “Main” and “Southridge” and “Hilldale” and other boring street names are out there? If I was in charge of naming streets, I’d have some fun with it. My husband and I used to talk about building neighborhoods and naming the streets thematically. There could be a Math neighborhood, and it would have streets like “Parabola Place” and “Tangent Terrace.” “X-Axis” and “Y-Axis” could intersect in the middle. You could also have a Grammar neighborhood. Wouldn’t it be cool to say you lived on “Dangling Participle”? That would make it a somewhat dysfunctional grammar neighborhood, but you get the picture.
Seriously, though, the more I think about it, the more I like this “Abilify” drug–just the idea of it, I mean. Because you could have so much fun with the ad campaign. Your slogan could be “Abilify me!”
“Gosh, Fred, you’re looking well these days. What’s you secret? Exercise? New diet?”
“Nah, Zeke–I’ve just been ABILIFIED!”
Before:
After:
ABILIFIED!
But first I have to ROCK MY WORLD with GEODON!
Stay tuned, gentle readers. Happy weekend to you.
Did I say I was depressed? I was just kidding. Because who can stay depressed after watching this?
I just dropped Princess Zurg off at her first day of art camp. She was dressed in all black (really) and was so excited. I’ve been wanting to put her in art classes for years because she’s very talented, but it’s only been within the last year or so that I’ve felt confident in her ability to sit (or stand) in a class and follow directions to the extent that she could learn anything. I hope that she has a good experience, since it’s going to last for a week.
I have been less than fully engaged in life, as of late. Starting about a year ago, I thought to myself, “I should really wean the baby so I can get some better drugs in my system.” Then last March I finally did wean the baby, and I went to my psychiatrist and said, “Better drugs, please.” And that’s when this grand experiment with stimulants began. What I’ve found with the stimulants is that at low doses they suppress my appetite but don’t particularly do anything for my mood. At higher doses (which are still relatively low) they make me irritable and and dark (metaphorically, mood-wise, not like I tan more easily). Also, the hoops through which one must jump to get insurance companies to approve these drugs (most often prescribed to treat ADHD symptoms) for adults–it’s somewhat ridiculous, which also makes me irritable and dark and somewhat prone to despair. It is almost not worth the trouble.
So the last time I went to my psychiatrist and said, “Better drugs that aren’t stimulants, please,” she respected my feelings but nevertheless managed to talk me into giving one more stimulant the old college try. It took about ten days to resolve the insurance issues, but for the past few days I’ve been taking FocalinXR, which isn’t suppressing my appetite any more than usual–having found that if one gets depressed enough, one can stop eating even without drug interference–but it’s been extremely difficult to discern what effect it’s having on my mood, if any. I don’t want to jump off a bridge or anything, and I don’t particularly want to stay in bed all day, but on the other hand, food still doesn’t taste good and I am still more or less joie-de-vivre-free. Some stimulant, eh?
Well, I’m only on 5 mg. I suppose I should bump it up to 10 mg or something, but I really just too lazy. And that makes me think that maybe 5 mg is perfectly sufficient to counteract depression, just not laziness, and perhaps laziness is my real problem, in which case I should be, what, asking for a caffeine prescription? On the other hand, for a drug that’s supposed to treat ADHD–a condition I don’t have–it has not really helped my concentration. Oh, look, is that a chicken? No, but seriously, even writing–which, unlike the laundry and the dishes, I like to do–has been like pulling teeth these last few weeks. Normally even when I’m depressed, I can still write. I may even write better than usual. But maybe that’s only when I’m eating.
Why on earth would I stop eating? This is me we’re talking about. I love eating. Eating is one of my few reliable pleasures in life. And yet I can barely bring myself to do it lately. I want to, but, eh, I don’t want to. And that’s just weird.
You know, I’m not looking for sympathy here. I’m just talking. It’s keeping me awake. And from doing the dishes. So don’t cry for me, gentle readers. It will only make me feel guilty.
On a happier note, my friend odetocorny has revived my interest in Mad Housewife brand chardonnay. Actually, Mad Housewife makes a chardonnay, a cabernet, a merlot, and a white Zinfandel–ooh la la! I’ve always been curious whether Mad Housewife wine is any good, but I can’t find out for myself because a) drinking’s against my religion, and b) in order to do a proper comparison, I would have to sample many other kinds of wine, which is even more against my religion, and c) if I’m already depressed, I should probably not start drinking. So I was wondering if any of you out there who already drink wine would be willing to pick up a bottle of Mad Housewife and tell me if it tastes okay, or if it’s just a cool gimmick. Because, you know, if I get approached for an endorsement deal, I want to make an informed decision. That’s all.
When I pulled my teeth last night, I managed to produce another blog post for BCC.
Here’s a fun meme I got from Cheryl.
1. when darkness cometh, 2. Peanut Butter Cup Heart, 3. Womens Basketball Charter Oak, 4. Welcome Home, 5. David Duchovny, 6. October Morning on Lake Michigan, 7. A witness of time, 8. Cookie Monster Cupcakes, 9. The Voice of Water, 10. Autumn walk, 11. Acrophobic mountain climber.., 12. Dancing by the light of the setting sun
Here’s how it works:
a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd’s mosaic maker. Choose 3 columns with 4 rows.
The Questions:
1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name. (kid version: favorite animal?)
Happy weekend, kids!
Sugar Daddy and Madhousewife on the movies
Madhousewife: You know, lots of people seem to like that Mamma Mia! movie, but I just look at it and think it can’t possibly be good. I think it’s the whole idea of Meryl Streep singing ABBA songs that I can’t quite get into.
Sugar Daddy: Well, she sang in Out of Africa, didn’t she? “A dingoooo ate my bay-beeee…”
Mad: That wasn’t Out of Africa!
SD: It wasn’t?
Mad: For one thing, that was in Australia. For another thing, it was a totally different movie.
SD: Oh yeah, what was that? A Cry in the Night? A Cry in the Dark?
Mad: Something like that.
SD: But it wasn’t a musical.
Mad: No. Neither of them was.
SD: Would’ve been cool, though.
A word on eating, things that are bad for you, and eating things that are bad for you
Today Princess Zurg and Mister Bubby went to the Clark County Fair with friends, and the younger kids and I met Sugar Daddy for lunch at the Burgerville. I like Burgerville because they’re so Pac Northwest. They use local ingredients, and their straw wrappers are 100% compostable. True story! They offer special menu items according to what’s in season. This is the season for Walla Walla Sweet Onion Rings. One might wonder what difference an onion makes when you’re talking about something that’s battered and deep-fried, but let me tell you: Walla Walla Sweet Onion Rings are special. By mistake we ended up getting (and paying for) two orders instead of one. SD is on a diet of sorts, and WWSOR are not on it, so I ended up eating way more WWSOR than anyone has any business eating in one sitting. That was probably wrong, but fortunately I don’t care.
I think the thing I find most charming about Burgerville, though, is that their kids’ meals don’t come with the usual crappy, useless plastic toys made by slave labor in communist countries that we only trade with because we love cheap, useless crap so very much. Make no mistake: the toys in the Burgerville kids’ meals are crappy–well, they’re not even really toys, more like “prizes.” But they’re inoffensive crappy prizes. Like today’s prize, a “crazy crayon”: basically some melted crayons molded into the shape of a smiley-face sun. It’s pretty lame, yes, but it’s functional and made from 100% recycled crayons. It’s a socially responsible crappy prize, and I appreciate that.
But I’ve eaten enough Walla Walla Sweet Onion Rings to last me the rest of the summer. Oy.
Madhousewife takes Sugar Daddy back to the office
Mad: I don’t know where I’m supposed to turn here.
SD: Right here. Here! See that big building that I work in? Go toward it.
Mad: You know, there’s a reason you usually do the driving.
[Silence]
Mad: And it’s not the one you’re thinking of right now!
My guest-blogger stint at BCC continues
MoBloggyLinky #3 is here.
Sugar Daddy: Am I SuperMormonBoy?
Madhousewife: No, not anymore. I corrupted you.
SD: I’m still orthodox, man.
Mad: I’m just teasing. You’re Super.
SD: But I didn’t do my home teaching last month.
Mad: I take it back. You’re not the man I married.
SD: Did I turn you conservative?
Mad: Actually, I think Larry Elder deserves most of the credit for turning me conservative.
SD: Yeah, once you’ve gone black, you never go back.
Mad: That’s a true statement, man.
It’s not that I’m too lazy to write two blogs at once. It’s that it’s too stinking hot for me to overcome my laziness. Also, there’s just not anything interesting going on here. I am trying a new drug this week. I’ll let you know how that goes. In the meantime, here’s a link to my BCC post. Princess Zurg’s in this one.
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