bbq, pigs & ears
This morning I woke up in a perfect world, with the Boy & the Blake snoring next to me. Of course, I didn’t think it was a perfect world at midnight when Blake came to sleep in our bed and I left to sleep on the couch; I am much more serene and down to earth when I’ve had seven hours of REM.
Blake had a disturbed night because he missed his dinner. He missed his dinner because he was too excited to eat. He was too excited to eat because we spent the afternoon at K8rs’ house, barbecuing with the toddler family set. (And I suppose we spent the afternoon at K8rs’ house because, although the invitation was late in the week, we had no plans whatsoever. Life with a two-year-old is fantastic, but it doesn’t get us that many invitations.)
it was that kind of party
Earlier that day:
one of my favourite storebacks ever
how disorienting is it to come into the city and see your wedding dj on every post, licking the logo of scherezade’s ex’s band?
Babe: Pig in the City was fantastically sad. The animal control scenes are played like Nazis clearing out ghettos, the clown dies, and the dog nearly drowns. I did, however, enjoy the scene when the monkey has twins.
Verdict: surreal and beautiful and very courageous in its own way but too intense for little kids. No wonder it flopped at the box office.
From the “If you’re Preacher, skip to another entry” Department:
I got my ears repierced on the Thursday before Bridesmaidmania. As of Friday, I knew that something was wrong with my left ear: the lobe was red, swollen and it pulsed in time with my heart. I decided to start the antiseptic routine they’d recommended upon piercing, the one I was too jaded to take seriously. The last two nights haven’t been very pleasant, but I was resolved to stay the course.
This morning, while listening to the announcements in church, I tried turning the earring. Suddenly my hand felt…wet. I rushed to the bathroom to sponge off the stuff that had decided to emerge from the new piercing. Not since my cyst healed itself have I been this particular combination of relieved and revolted.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*