667 (The Neighbor of the Beast)

I never realized there were people against Halloween until I moved to Texas. The whole idea was summed up for me by a three year old neighbor who informed me that "Halloween is NOT God's party!!!!" All I can say is, God's missing out on a LOT of chocolate.

I'm all about any holiday devoted almost entirely to chocolate, which is why I also love Valentine's day, despite the fact that Jewish people don't normally celebrate holidays with saints in the name. I'm also infatuated by thinking Christians in general and particularly how Punk Israel's blog justifies my chocolate-fest tonight.

All that said, I am totally and completely okay with not celebrating Halloween at my preschool. I've heard teachers bemoaning the fact our little sweethearts will be attending school today sans costume. I shrug that off, because the children still get to dress up at home, and who the heck wants to get 16 little bodies in and out of costumes all day so they can go potty?!?!?! Besides, they'll come to school dressed up for Purim.

I do have one delimna this year and that is, my own children will have to miss Wednesday night religious school in order to go do the whole devil worship thing...

KIDDING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We're not going to worship the devil! Let's get our facts straight here: we're going to worship CHOCOLATE!!!! Kidding again!!!!!!!!!! I fully expect to eat my fair share though.

So happy Halloween and here's some Warren Zevon to get you in the mood:

On the second thought, I do have dating advice

So, thanks to the online dating world, I’ve been seeing this guy who actually does know a song about a chicken. It happens that he has a 19 year old daughter who claims he’s “Twipply Skwood” (or "triply screwed" as pronounced by a seven year old if you're still wondering). But I’m fairly certain he has to be doing something okay in her eyes, ‘cause she’s willing to spend a pretty fair chunk of time with him.

All I wanted to do when I was 19 was see skip college classes and date cokeheads. Have I mentioned that I’m an EXCELLENT role model?!?!?!?!? After all, I know where all the best body piercing studios are.

I said on one blog post that this is not the place to find actual dating advice, but I was mistaken. I have some really valuable dating advice for every young adult on the planet:

DON'T DATE COKEHEADS!

They lie a lot and then tend to either die or go to jail. Besides, I’ve heard that coke decreases sex drive, so who wants to bother with that?

I say, wait until sex feels like a chore because you’ve been married for umpteen years and you're exhausted because your husband rarely helps with housework or parenting and still expects you to work full time and THEN encourage him to start using coke. I’M KIDDING!!!!!!!!!! I am totally and completely against the use of cocaine. I mean, why bother when beer is legal and all?

Despite being infatuated with cokeheads during my late teens, I’ve never had even the slightest interest in actually using cocaine. I’m not really sure what the draw is, although as popular as it is there must be some advantage or another. Perhaps it’s desirable for people who aren’t as naturally caffeinated as I am.

All that said, I absolutely LOVE music about cocaine. Who wouldn’t? I mean, there’s such a variety:

Townes Van Zandt - Cocaine Blues
Jackson Browne – Cocaine
The Grateful Dead - Aren’t most of theirs drug songs?
Eric Clapton - of course
Johnny Cash - Cocaine Blues (but a different song by the same title than the Townes Van Zandt song)
The Old Crow Medicine Show - Cocaine Habit and Tell it to Me

And those are just songs about cocaine that I can think of right off the top of my head. I’m sure there are plenty of songs with drug references that I don’t get since I don’t do drugs. And there are probably also a number of songs I will think up fifteen seconds after posting this. I actually hope to see more show up in the comment section.

By the way, in addition to being pro-songs-about-cocaine, I am also still in favor of skipping as many college lecture classes as possible if the material is easy enough to learn without going to class. Kidding!!!!! Okay, only partially kidding. Sorry David and Matt and parents the world over. Did I mention that I’m an excellent role model?

One final note: since I truly am getting at least two Google searches a day looking for motorized, ride on beer coolers, I've set up a link on the side bar! Say "Hi" to Martin from me!

Here's my new sweetheart!

Isn't he ADORABLE?!?!?! Did I lie about those cheeks?

I hope to shuffle off to Buffalo to smother him in kisses in the near future.

That's why my brother and sister in law moved to Buffalo: so I could say the words "Shuffle off to Buffalo" every now and then. I prefer that all my friends and relatives live in places conducive to reciting song lyrics, just so you know.

Welcome to the World!!

Welcome to the world to my new little nephew Felix Day! No, I can't remember his weight. I know, I know...the weight of a new baby is a big conversation piece, but I'll have to get back later with that and a photo that didn't come via dying cell phone. For those who have recently inquired as to my geekiness level, it does not extend to the ability to post a picture from a cell phone.

The important part is, Felix's cheeks look nice and plump, and I've been told that both mom and baby are healthy. Like Thomas the Tank Engine, he was really reliable and right on time. He was even a little early.

Felix Day arrived last night while I was at a Hayes Carll concert with a man who claims to be "applying for the position of significant other," whatever the heck that means. My cousin Bernard says we're a hard family to get into and that being born in was the only way he made it. Bernard asked if the application process has been tough.

How tough could it be? I can see the piles and piles of paperwork now:

Cute? Yes. OKAY! I admit it! I really am that shallow! A guy has to be cute, for cryin' out loud!

Sense of humor? Yes. Strictly speaking, this is only required if a guy actually expects to be able to communicate with me...

Not dumber than a stump and/or able to compose a coherent sentence now and again? Uh huh. Good grammar is SO SEXY! No, I would not actually like a list of grammatical errors in my post, thank you very much. Actually, mom's kind of busy with her new grandson, so maybe that would help after all.

Drinking? Didn't seem to flinch during my declaration to have "seen all my favorite bouncers!" recently.

Enjoys songs about chickens or whiskey? There's the clincher...

Hayes Carll, for what it's worth, has an excellent song about chickens. I will soon post a picture (and weight) for Felix Day, who made it into the family just last night sans paperwork or interview!

Sleeping-bag-sicles and Such

It seems I've promised a few pictures here and there and thought I'd make good. Here's my cat Sugar, viciously guarding a maxipad. Thank goodness someone guards the feminine hygiene products around here, because I get so tired of Nimue, or "that other cat you never talk about" (as my friend Laurie calls him), eating all the tampons:












Here's Sugar ready for a swim:










Catching up on some light reading:








Fingernails on a chalkboard, dripping sinks, that jingle from some commercial that won't leave your head, a cat licking a sleeping-bag-sicle for hours and hours and hours on end:










Here's "that other cat you never talk about":










What's to talk about? Aside from devouring the living daylights out of every box of (unused) tampons I have ever purchased and attacking my paint brushes with a vengeance, he mostly hides or pukes. Sometimes he multitasks and pukes while he hides.

He's stealthy in his destruction and I can never catch him in the act much less get a picture, but I assume it's Nimue that has the vendetta against tampons and paint brushes because Sugar is not at all shy with his transgressions.

Rainbow pictures are kind of like animal pictures for me. I can't help myself, but I can never really figure out why I took them or what to do with them. I love a good contradiction though and a rainbow ending in a power plant seemed too good to pass up:









Everybody loved this thing and I have to admit the rose petals are incredibly delicate and everything. But WHY?!?!?! Who would do this to a poor, unsuspecting melon? And isn't it sort of a waste of food?












Here's my sweet pea with my friend Gigi's snake Sunshine:












Here's Jared with the same snake:













Last but not least (okay, maybe least), here's another bar bathroom picture. This is from the Continental Club. The wall design is interesting but the floor is all kinds of icky! No bathroom award here!

Online (Up)dating

Since finding out that I can occasionally sort of tell how people find this blog, I've been fascinated with how they make their way here. Lately the majority of the google searches are for dating information. I only have three words for you people:

Don't try it!!!!!!!

Dating is bound to end in either crying or marriage, and if divorce statistics are to be believed, marriage also ends in crying a great deal of the time. I'm kidding! But only partially so.

I happen to know exactly what I don't want from dating, and not actually a whole lot about what I do want:

• I don't want to ending up doing some guy's laundry or washing his dishes after dating for however long that entails.
• I don't want some guy telling me that (having already adequately fed my children) I can't spend my last $15 on a CD instead of food.
• I don't want anyone telling me that I can't go to Lola's, although I'd be okay with a guy telling me it was out of bounds to kiss a bald Spaniard while I was there.

I'm kidding! But only because Etro is actually a more popular hang out for bald Spaniards.

That said, I've already learned this much about online dating: It's every bit as absurd as the rest of life. For instance, the site I signed up for has an option for sending a "flirt." I believe these "flirts" offer a selection of canned phrases, all of which roughly translate to:

"Hey! I'm interested in your profile, but not interested enough to compose my own sentence!"

They should really nix the canned flirts in favor of canned rejection. I need one that says:

"I didn't read your message yet, but I'll get back with you the next time I get a wild hair and think a bunch of potential rejection and crying would be right up my alley."

or even

"Thank you so much, but I have a date to go hear Hayes Carll, and Porterdavis isn't until next month."

Since they don't actually offer an anti-flirt though, I'm sort of just living with the guilt of a bunch of unread messages. What was I thinking? I can barely keep up with the emails from people I actually know.

I did manage to give my phone number to two guys. One of them was pretty obvious. Out of the messages I managed to read, he was the only guy who actually came up with a song about a chicken. Besides, he had a music reference in his very first sentence and books in his picture background, so how could I not?

I gave my phone number to one other guy, because he's a member of an outdoor club, and that sounded interesting. But when he called he told me that he was selling his jukebox! I can't date a guy who would hang onto all kinds of who knows what, yet sell a perfectly operable jukebox! I mean, technically I COULD, but it sounds like guaranteed misery. No pun intended. Or pun intended. Either way.

Besides, he told ME to call HIM! I don't do that. He apparently neglected to notice that I specifically requested borderline stalking behavior from a guy who enjoys songs about chickens (or whiskey)!

Meanwhile, if you're up for actual dating advice, I think you'll have to look elsewhere. Since I'm also getting a fair amount of searches for the word "naked" these days, let me just say that I'm afraid I won't be much help on that front either. I CAN, however, put you in touch with a guy who sells motorized ride on beer coolers.

Motorized Coolers, Dancin' Naked, I don't actually have a great title for this one

A friend (whom I've referred to as "coach" in the past) moved in across the courtyard from me a week ago. Thus far he's been good natured about being blog fodder, even when I've gone so far as to discuss his homophobia or lack thereof. For whatever it's worth, his level of homophobia doesn't seem excessive, though it may just be that I'm oblivious.

My point is, I'm relatively certain that he won't mind reading about himself again, as long as I don't post a picture of him riding a motorized-ride-on-beer cooler. I will post a picture of MYSELF on a motorized-ride-on-beer cooler though, since you asked:


OK! I know no one asked! But in general when I make statements like that, someone asks. The smiling yet slightly nervous guy in the background is Martin, the owner of the cooler. I can't imagine why he looked nervous, aside from the fact that he kept informing me that the cooler did, in fact, have brakes...I guess 13 miles an hour could seem speedy when a total stranger is racing away aboard your livelihood.

In any case, it turns out that when I look out my window, coach's window is in my direct line of sight. Because I don't know the first thing about wireless internet, I spend arguably too much time between my bed and the wall with my feet propped up against said window. It is an odd feeling to be on the phone with someone who can witness your eccentricities as you discuss them.

Another friend said that it would be cool to have him for a neighbor, that coach is "really nice". But, she informed me, I would have to be careful about dancing naked in my room. Which is a serious bummer, 'cause if a gal can't dance naked in the privacy of her own room, where the heck can she?!?!?

DON'T ANSWER THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't actually want to know anyone's thoughts on appropriate locations for dancing nakey...it was bad enough just finding out that "activity partner" may not mean exactly what I thought it meant!

That said, me and Denise do all our best dance moves before seven a.m. And just for the record, I am TOTALLY dressed! Denise on the other hand...

I actually don't have anything to worry about. Coach spends all of seventeen seconds a week not at work. Just kidding all you crazy stalkers out there! He actually spends the majority of his time polishing his gun collection while gazing out his back window!

The Secret Life of Toothpaste

I didn't actually read the Secret Life of Bees. Well, I read about half of it before deciding that if I were going to get all depressed about someone's miserable life, I may as well be feeling for real people. It's a GREAT book though! Or at least the first half is really great. Anyway, I never found out about what bees do in their secret lives, but I've recently discovered the secret life of toothpaste.

Some time ago my friend Dan mentioned having CDs regrooved. I was astonished. CDs can be regrooved?!?!?! Dan is, among other things, a DJ. So I felt like he was a fairly credible source for the dirt on CDs.

I was ready to set the world on fire with this new knowledge! Who it was I was planning to enlighten I can't really say, since as I've mentioned none of my friends are into that kind of stuff. I planned on interrogating him relentlessly when I suddenly realized that I had burned the CD in question from itunes. Why go through all the hassle of regrooving when I could just burn another twelve cent CD?

I've since gotten a lot lazier about putting new CDs into itunes and have had opportunity to rethink the whole regrooving thing. No point in suggesting I download directly from the internet - I still use a cast iron pan for cryin' out loud! I'm not exactly what marketers call an "early adopter."

More recently another friend (also named Daniel) and I were talking about CDs. I briefly wondered if men named Daniel might have an inordinate knowledge of the workings of CDs. But then I remembered that about 1/3 of the men I know are named Dan or Daniel and that it stands to reason that a couple of them would have an area of expertise in common. In any case, this particular Daniel knows a lot about a lot of things, so he seems like a credible source for information on...well...any number of subjects.

For whatever reason, Daniel was telling me that CDs have a thin layer of plastic over the music which led to him telling me the meaning of life for toothpaste. I have used windex, hot water, cotton, and breath among other things, but nothing works like toothpaste for breathing new life into a skipping CD!

My favorite CD is now scratch-free! Forget Jesus is Magic (although it's a really funny movie, if you like demented humor). Toothpaste is magic! Also, I'm changing careers to become a guidance councilor for common household products.