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have to pee and can't think up a good title 2001-05-22 This morning, as I was rooting around for something to take for breakfast, I decided to toast some waffles (the frozen kind) and make a waffle/peanut butter sandwich. This seemed like an excellent idea until I put the sandwich together and realized that all the peanut butter went into the waffle depressions and there was none on top with which to stick the waffles to each other. I said, "Aha--now I see why the waffle sandwich never caught on", and Francisco laughed, because he was picturing lab-coated individuals laboring over a waffle sandwich prototype and then throwing their hands up in despair. He is a wonderful audience. The waffles were good anyway, eaten as an open-faced sandwich, i.e., separately, on the way to work. How many of you have watched Iron Chef? Anyone? Show of hands? I haven't watched it very often, because I'm never sure when it's on, but I saw it this weekend and it was pretty good. The main ingredient was blue crab, and the challenger was a woman who learned Thai cooking from some Thai princess or other. So all her food was Thai, and man oh man it looked good. I love me the Thai food. The Iron Chef was the Italian chef guy, and some of his food looked pretty icky (cold blue crab lasagna, with a mayonnaise-mustard sauce? blech), but he won anyway. An outrage! What a cheesy show; it's really starting to grow on me. I didn't go to the gym this morning; I just couldn't. I went to bed too late and didn't sleep too soundly, and when the alarm went off I got out of bed, intending to do the gym, but I felt my right temple aching warningly, so I went back to bed. I had the migraine yesterday on the right side, and I just Knew if I went to the gym it would recur. I don't get really horrific migraines--never once have I lost vision or vomited from a migraine like some poor people do. Sometimes the migraines are pretty bad, though, and I have to recline in a dark room until the headache passes. Usually, like yesterday, they're just bad headaches on one side of my head, and much of the time they come in clusters (get them several days in a row). No migraine yet today, thankfully. But anyway, the Whole Point of telling you I didn't go to the gym was so I could segue into telling you about the bizarre dream I had this morning after I went back to bed. I dreamt I went to the gym after all, but I was extremely tired, so after I got into the car to return home it was all I could do to not fall asleep while driving. In this dream I apparently lived a couple hours from Seattle, because I ended up concentrating so hard on driving home from the gym that I forgot where I was driving and I just kept going until I got to Seattle. I then checked into the Marriott (why there?) and called Francisco to tell him what had happened and that I couldn't possibly drive home without sleeping. He was naturally suspicious of this, and thought I was having an affair. He later showed up with a couple of our friends and we ate and drank everything in the minibar, and then I couldn't go home without paying the tab, so I had to work at Elizabeth Arden to get the money. They were having a sale and the manager was really pissy. I wanted to try on some lipgloss but she was always watching me, so I couldn't. Francisco had to take the Boy to school this morning because I didn't get ready in time. That was good because I've been having trouble getting him there early enough to suit the traffic nazis. There are a couple people who stand outside the school to monitor the "kiss and go" lane, and lately they've been putting up signs that say, "It's Nifty to be Here By 7:50". Puh-lease. School starts at 8:00, but they really want the kids there early for some reason. I've been arriving with him around 7:51, and I've been getting stern looks. Once the man handed me a half sheet of paper that had the "nifty" slogan on it. I'm thinking about writing "BITE ME" on a piece of paper and keeping it in the car in case he wants to hand me a reprimand again--we could have an exchange. Francisco and I watched American Beauty last weekend. We had seen it before and really loved it, and he gave it to me last November or so, and we hadn't seen it again. Oh man, it is even better than I remembered. Please, if you haven't seen this film, you Must see it. Unless of course you're 12, and then you need to wait a few years. Yesterday when I turned into our neighborhood, there was a huge pile of stuff out for the garbage truck (it comes on Tuesday mornings) in front of a house out of which people had moved yesterday. When I drove by I saw they had left all their houseplants, plus Lots of other stuff they didn't want to move, and I wanted to stop and paw through it but I was too embarrassed. Later I saw people going through it and rescuing the plants, so at least I don't have to worry about the plants going to the landfill. Francisco said that we could go look at the pile except that the only thing more pitiful than going through someone's garbage would be going through someone's already picked-over garbage. In a way I don't understand why someone would just dump stuff like that, but then I think about how horrible moving is, and how one's possessions seem like such a burden during moving time, and then I can understand the dumping. I wonder where they moved. Hopefully someone with kids The Boy's age will move in, because he is running out of nearby playmates. Yesterday I found out that one of the kids The Boy plays with (a kid he doesn't like all that well but plays with because he's better than nothing--we'll call him "G") called The Boy's favorite neighbor friend (an African-American boy--we'll call him "T") the N-word. I was shocked, but not too surprised. G is a loudmouthed, hostile, obnoxious child and even if he doesn't actually have racist tendencies I can see him calling T the N-word just to be offensive. Francisco talked to G about it when he came over yesterday and told him that he didn't want G coming over anymore. He told G it was because of the N-word but also because G has consistently ignored Francisco's requests that he stop cussing a blue streak while at our house. G is only 7 but I can imagine it won't be too many more years until G is in the hands of the law. I feel he is a Bad Seed. G's brother R will probably not come over to play anymore either, since G is not allowed, and that's too bad because R is a fairly nice boy and doesn't have very many friends because he has an excellent vocabulary and wields it constantly. I know from personal experience that other kids don't take to that. He's a little strange but is completely different from his brother. This morning there was a google search leading to this diary that was for "simple monkey knife fight". Gotta love it. Bye now, and love to all,
come over some time & see me - 2011-02-25 |
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