Puppies Dressed As Cats (08/27/09)

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An Open Letter to the Pea

Dear Pea,
Have I done something to offend you?  Or is there just some cranky, grumpy, you-may-have-brought-me-into-this-world-but-I-will-take-you-out, mood-swingy phase you're going through right now?

Or is it just teething?

Sincerely,
Your Loving Mother

 

I have to share this story really quickly:  I was flipping through my Google Reader, and I caught a glimpse of this picture of a baby wearing a bib just like the Pea's.  Then, I looked closer and said, "Oh, he really looks like the Pea."  Closer inspection:  Okay, that is the Pea.  My friend Amy hosted an awesome pool party last weekend, and she captured this sweet dinner shot.  Because nothing says pool party like jarred corn.  :)

My Bologna has a First Name

It's p-e-w-w-w-w-w.

I'm facing a tiny conundrum (and by tiny, I mean really, truly miniscule).

I bought some Oscar Meyer Cajun Seasoned chicken lunch meat.  It tastes yummy.  It smells like a small animal crawled into my fridge and died a horrible death.  Putting it in tupperware has helped to contain the stench  somewhat.  But each time I open it, it overwhelms.

What to do?  Throw it out?  Tough it out?

I'm pretty frugal, so I'm leaning towards toughing it out, but I just wanted to give everyone a fair warning for your own lunches.

A Bouquet of Freshly Sharpened Pencils

I love that image from "You've Got Mail".  I don't have a school-aged child yet.  It's been awhile since I've been a student (less time than you might think due to my oh-so-utilized graduate degree).  But there's just something about this time of year that sends my heart aflutter.

School supplies lined up ready to go, the smell of new textbooks (one of my favorite scents), crinkly backpacks that haven't been broken in.  I love it!  All of it!

My niece is starting pre-K tomorrow...I'm so excited for her!


On a side note, I've finally put my finger on who (what) my son's crawl reminds me of.  He crawls with both hands, one knee, and a foot.

Gollum.  (or, rather, Smeagol as he's so sweet, and I'm a geek)

A Word of Advice for Dating in the Dark Contestants

Just show up on the balcony.

He may be shorter than you. She may have a big forehead.

Isn't an awkward hug with a limo ride better than the "...but his teeth weren't straight enough" walk of shame? It's not like you're agreeing to marry the person. Just ditch them by e-mail a week later. If they end up being a stalker, you can sue the network. There you go, a win-win.

The only excuse that doesn't make you look like a shallow harpy? He was too handsy/she was moving too fast. Or we had nothing in common...I wouldn't care if he was Brad Pitt.

Seriously. Just show up on the balcony.


On a related note, Glee, your fall premiere cannot come too soon.

Dog Days of Summer

I always know that I've hit that point of summer (the point where the thought of doing anything but following the Pea around the air-conditioned house and slurping a popsicle is laughable) when I open my cookbook before heading to the store and cannot find one recipe (not a one!) that I have any desire to make.  (Yes, I realize that was the world's longest run-on sentence, but it's too hot to go back and fix it.)

It's too hot to go swimming.  Summer has jumped the shark.

Come join me in my lethargy.

Dogpatch U.S.A.

I had a random memory as Bill and I were driving back from seeing Wicked Saturday night. (It was okay...if by "okay" you mean "FRIGGIN' AWESOME!!!!")



We got on the topic of band experiences. Bill was kind of hot snot in a hot snot Atlanta band. By his senior year, he was the drum major. I grew up in Arkansas. His band went to places like New York City and Sea World. Our band went to Dogpatch U.S.A.** If you're never heard of Dogpatch, there's a reason. If you HAVE heard of Dogpatch, you probably grew up within a one hour radius of me.

Dogpatch dreamed of being "the next Disneyland". The only problem was that they (a) built it in the middle of Nowhere, Arkansas; (b) based it on the capers of Lil' Abner; (c) y'know, I really can't think of a (c)...I feel that (a) & (b) are more than sufficient reasons for failure.

And we didn't just go to Dogpatch, we PLAYED at Dogpatch. For whom? I'm really not sure. Our parents and the other three poor souls who actually paid to go to the park that day? The park finally closed for good in 1993. I can't remember the exact year we went, but it had to be within 1 or 2 years of its closing. The only thing I remember that was left open was the ferris wheel, the train (which you could easily jump off of mid-ride), and some random retired circus elephants.

Does anyone else remember this? Sara?

And does anyone have any good memories of Dogpatch in its heyday? That would make me feel a little better.

Oh, and you can watch a simultaneously hilarious and depressing news story about it. Please don't judge the entire state by this. Please.

**In our band director's defense, we also went to Washington D.C. my junior year and played on the Capitol steps.