Category Archives: Im most likely dying

My Annual End-of-Year Music Post, Which I Again Did Incorrectly (Part 2 of 3)

Here we are again!

I just want to say, I totally shouldn’t be blogging right now. I have been hit with the killer death-flu. I know I’m a total exaggerator, but in this case, I’m not even exaggerating. I have a fever that’s fluctuating between 100-102 degrees, every bit of me aches, EVERY LAST BIT, and I am having trouble breathing without coughing like an old person on their last legs. Last night I felt pretty bad, but I thought, nah, I’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep. Well, that was a lie. I couldn’t sleep more than an hour at a stretch without waking up coughing and/or in a puddle of sweat with the covers all tangly (DAMMIT COVERS!) and then I called out sick to work. I had every single intention of going but when I stood up in order to get ready, I almost passed out. I had to put my head between my knees and sit on the couch for a while to recover myself. This made Dumbcat pleased. “Mom mom moooooooom! What are we doing is it a gaaaaaame? Can I play can I can I can I?” he said in his inimitable cat-language. Then he leapt on my my back like he was a mountain goat and I was the mountain. That made me cough. Right now, everything makes me cough. Including breathing, walking, laughing, crying, and going to the bathroom.

Here are the middle-picks for my top thirty songs for the year – numbers 20-11. Both sj and Ken will be pleased today. Also probably horrified at times, but there are things here to make them pleased.

20. “Blue Skies for Everyone” – Bob Schneider  (Lonelyland, 2001)

Go to sleep, hit your head/Scream until your face is red/And you’ll find when you are done/Blue skies for everyone

This one’s all sj’s doing. See, sj sent me a Christmas present recently, which was a wonderful playlist with the best cover art ever? And this song was on it. And I fell in LOVE with it. Isn’t it fantastic? All moody but also kind of funny and super-intelligent? And I like how it’s bitter and twisted, but also optimistic. And she said that it was played in one of her favorite movies, Gun Shy, which I then watched and it was very good because she’s got excellent taste. So this video’s for you, sj – look! All the Gun Shy goodness! (Also, why didn’t you tell me how pretty Bob Schneider is? Good gracious!)

19. “We Are Young” – Fun featuring Janelle Monae (Some Nights, 2011)

So if by the time the bar closes/and you feel like falling down/I’ll carry you home tonight

This song makes me bop all around in my car. I think it’s for younger people but I don’t even care. It’s fun.

18.  “The Story” – Brandi Carlile (The Story, 2007)

And all of my friends who think that I’m blessed/They don’t know my head is a mess/No, they don’t know who I really am/And they don’t know what/I’ve been through like you do

I heard this song for the first time this year and then I bawled as if I’d lost my puppy. Then I came home and found it online and listened to it over and over and over and over. You really have to listen to it to get the full effect – she’s got this raw edge to her voice later in the song, like she’s about to lose it. It’s just gorgeous.

I like songs that I have a connection with and that remind me of someone. This one gets full marks for that. Also, Brandi Carlile is wonderful and, much like Ingrid Michaelson, I can’t guarantee you won’t see her on here again.

17. “Stubborn Love” – The Lumineers (The Lumineers, 2012)

It‘s better to feel pain, than nothing at all/The opposite of love‘s indifference

I discovered The Lumineers this year. I know, they’re probably a total hipster band. Don’t care. Love ’em. They’re joyous, but they also have excellent lyrics. I mean, “the opposite of love’s indifference?” It totally is. I love that. LOVE. I live my life not in fear of hatred, but indifference.

Also, The Lumineers came to play a free show here recently, and when people couldn’t get in because too many people showed up, they tried to play some songs in the parking lot and the cops came and make them stop. Way to go, cops.

16. “Essence” – Lucinda Williams (Essence, 2001)

I am waiting here for more/I am waiting by your door/I am waiting on your back steps 

This is the one that will make Ken happy. Ken says things like “I utterly cannot believe you don’t know who Lucinda Williams is” and then tells me songs I should listen to so I can be introduced to her. Because he’s very calm and patient, even though I imagine he’s probably shaking his head in disgust. Anyway, this year he introduced me to Lucinda Williams, and this song won. So pretty. So emotional. So raw. So, Ken, even if the rest of these make you disgusted, I know you’ll like this one.

15. “Mother of Pearl” – Nellie McKay (Obligatory Villagers, 2007)

Feminists don’t have a sense of humor/Feminists just want to be alone

This one’s courtesy of my beloved Mer. She posted it on my Facebook page this year and it made me laugh and grin and bop all around. It’s an adorable song about a serious topic and I love it so much. Also, Nellie McKay couldn’t be cuter.

14. “Oxford Comma” – Vampire Weekend (Vampire Weekend, 2008)

Who gives a fuck about an Oxford comma?/I’ve seen those English dramas, too, they’re cruel

I like that this is a grammar song, and it’s so damn catchy. Also it cusses. But for the record, I’d like to say that *I* give a fuck about the Oxford comma; very much so, Vampire Weekend. But I still love the song, so that’s ok, then.

13. “Friday I’m in Love” – Scars on 45 (Live only – 2012)

Monday you can fall apart; Tuesday, Wednesday, break my heart

Dirty secret: I love covers.

Discovering a gorgeous cover of a song is one of my favorite things in the world. I heard Scars on 45 live this year when they opened for Ingrid Michaelson and loved them; then my local indie station started playing this recently, and although I like the original just fine, this song is just so, so pretty. It’s not available on an album, and might not be – apparently getting the rights for it isn’t proving as easy as hoped – but I happen to know someone who can turn videos into MP3s for me. I KNOW ALL THE BEST PEOPLE. Who are slightly illegal. But only for the best reasons, you see. So now I can listen to this gorgeous cover and also put it on BFFs year-end CD, because that’s where it belongs.

12. “Keep On Loving You” – Zan Strumfeld (2012)

But when you find someone new, and maybe she’s already there/When you find someone new, please, please don’t share

This is another local singer. She seems to write for the paper, which is kind of awesome. Anyway, this was on the radio the other night on my drive home and I said, “OH I MUST FIND THIS AND LISTEN TO IT UNTIL MY EARS BLEED.” It’s another one you’ll have to click and listen to – no pretty video, sorry – but it’s so worth it. I have to stalk this chick and find her and listen to her live sometime this year. I like her that much. Enough that I want to go among PEOPLE to see her. I know!

11. “We Found Love” – Ingrid Michaelson (Online only, 2012)

We found love in a hopeless place

I think I mentioned this one when I talked about seeing Ingrid Michaelson. She closed her show with this, and I LOVED it. Then I was all, “I need to find this, what super-fun song.” Then I found out it was a Rihanna song. (I don’t listen to popular music. Like, ever. That Rihanna “Umbrella” song? I didn’t hear it for like a year after everyone was singing it. Which made my friends SO CONFUSED. And once I heard it I was all, “what’s the big deal about this song, it’s not even very GOOD.”) So I was a little embarrassed and said, “OH AMY” (I say that a lot) but it didn’t mean I didn’t still love the song.

And look! I found it online! And totally found a (shh) way to download a MP3 of it so I’m a little illegal but I still own it now! (I promise I pay for all my music, unless I can’t find it. If I can’t find it and pay for it I look for alternate means. But I promise I always at least ATTEMPT to pay. I’m honest to a fault, sadly. It makes my dad nuts, especially when it comes to tax returns.)

There you go, jellybeans! What will be on the top ten, I wonder? You’re all SO CURIOUS, aren’t you? Well, at least I know sj is. Since that’s her JOB here.

(Which is why I feel terrible I'm such a heathen, music-wise)...

(Which is why I feel terrible I’m such a heathen, music-wise)…

Stay tuned to see what songs were my FAVORITES this year! SO EXCITING ARGH!

Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!

I’m all out of words today. I have a headache and I think I’m coming down with something which seems unlikely as  I don’t often leave the house, so where would I catch it? From Dumbcat? Probably cat scratch fever, then? Thanks a lot, Dumbcat. ZOMG, I just looked up the symptoms of cat scratch fever and headache and fatigue are TOTALLY SYMPTOMS. As is MALAISE. I have all the malaise! All of it! Oh, this is bad news. Or, wait, no, it isn’t, it just goes away on its own and I’ll be FINE. Well, I bet I have the WORST case of cat scratch fever EVER. That will probably KILL me. That’s just like this cat scratch fever to be the most deadly thing ever. JUST LIKE IT.

Listen, I was GOING to put in a real picture of cat scratch fever but YOWZA those photos were gross. This one’s pretty gross, too. but at least not swollen and inflamed.

Well, I suppose I’d better write SOMETHING before I succumb to this very deadly cat scratch fever. I mean, who knows if this will be my last ever post before you all hear that I’ve died and you’ll be donating to one of my favorite charities or possibly to Victims of Cat Scratch Fever, which would be VCSF and not a very good or memorable acronym for a charity of people like ME who have died of CAT SCRATCH FEVER.

Dumbcat would like you all to know he does not think he has cat scratch fever, and he feels fine, but I’m pretty sure that’s what victims of cat scratch fever all say. Or those who are TRANSMITTING cat scratch fever to their supposedly beloved owners. But, FINE DUMBCAT, I will go on WebMD and put in my symptoms and see what it says is wrong with me. I bet WebMD says I have cancer.

WedMD said I had 99 possible diseases, and a bitch ain’t one (but one of which *was* TOTALLY cat scratch fever) but also I could have post-partum depression (I’m depressed just thinking about that, because if I have that, WHERE IS MY BABY?), brain aneurysm, typhoid fever, or cocaine withdrawal. As you can see, I’m most likely dying and have only days, NAY MOMENTS, left to live. (Also, I was doing cocaine? Man, did I enjoy myself? I can’t imagine I did. Cocaine always scared the beejeebers out of me. I think we can all agree I don’t need a drug that makes me speedier.)

Heh! That dastardly typhoid fever. Leave them kids alone.

Because I am dying, I should probably leave you with some cheerful things to remember me by, right? I mean, that’s important.

Here are Anzac and Peggy, and they are the best of interspecies friends.

Aw, you GUYS! Even though I am DYING I can appreciate the cuteness of this magnitude! Look look look! A joey and a wee wombat! They have been sharing a pouch because they are both ORPHANS. Aw! This is like the beginning of every Disney movie ever. This is like the Fox and the Hound! Only it’s the kangaroo and the wombat! Also, apparently they get along very well because they have similar personalities: Anzac the kangaroo is “very social” and Peggy the wombat is “boisterous and cheeky.” Aw! CHEEKY! Cheeky is my favorite!

Here is what Peggy will grow up into. ZOMG, why didn’t you people tell me how adorable wombats are? Australia has the BEST animals!

The article goes on to say that the zookeepers don’t know if Anzac and Peggy will stay friends when they grow up, because they will differ wildly in size, and wombats are all waddly like little furry piggies. Aw! Poor Anzac and Peggy! I hope you stay friends FOREVER, you two! DAMN THE MAN! Don’t let ’em tell you who you can be friends with, you two crazy kids. Make it work! AGAINST ALL ODDS! Just like Phil Collins says!

Take a look at me nowwww…..

And if you thought THAT was cute, here is Orbit the owl and HER BFF. They’re not interspecies friends. They’re…um…interobject friends? I guess?

Aw, Orbit!

Baby Orbit was also orphaned, so the lady raising him gave him a cuddle object and he TOTALLY took to it. ZOMG, you GUYS! Could this be any cuter? Also, baby barn owls are ADORABLE. All little puffs of fluff. I mean, I love owls anyway, but when they’re babies, I want to snorgle them. (Also, why so many orphaned babies? This is very sad.)

Aw, look at Orbit here! All baby raptory. I love him.

Look what baby Orbit will look like when he grows up! Listen, I totally missed my calling and should have been a raptor rehabilitator because I love birds of prey more than almost anything, I swear.

I like how poker-faced and wise barn owls look. Like they have SECRETS.

Oh, this isn’t so much “cheerful” as it is something I’ve seen a billion times over the past week or so and it makes me laugh every time.

OK, so since I don’t ever leave the house, I watch more television than is probably healthy? And this one commercial keeps coming on. And I can’t find it online. It’s apparently TOO SHOCKING FOR THE INTERWEBS. Nah, probably no one uploaded it because no one finds it as humorous as I do. Anyway, it’s a back-to-school commercial. It’s either for Kmart or Walmart, I’m not sure which. I thought Walmart but then I started second-guessing myself and now that I WANT to see it, of COURSE it’s not on. Anyway, it’s this hidden-camera thing, where this SECRETIVE VOICE-OVER GUY is all “we invited these families over so their children can try on these clothes for back-to-school” and it shows these women and girls all laughing and smiling and the girls modeling their new clothes. You know. Like you do with your friends and their girlfriends. Then SECRETIVE VOICE-OVER GUY is all “what these people DON’T KNOW is that these clothes are ALL FROM WALMART!” (Or, like I said, it might be Kmart, because I can’t find it anywhere. They’re both kind of the same place anyway.) Then the adults and kids are all, “What? Hee hee hee! I NEVER WOULD HAVE GUESSED! I will buy ALL of my clothes at Walmart (maybe Kmart, whatever) from now on!”


Every single time this commercial is on, I give it my OWN voice-over. “What? These clothes are from WALMART? Get ’em off. GET ‘EM OFF! Walmart clothes don’t touch my children’s skin! BURN THEM WITH FIRE! KILL THE CAMERAMAN! HOW DARE YOU!” Then I get the giggles. Because I’m effing hilarious, yo. Is it really so tricky? Kids are refusing to wear clothes from these places? Shit, when I was little, if I refused some of my back-to-school clothes, my mom would have just said, “Fine, wear last year’s shit, see if I care?” And then I’d be wearing the same clothes two years in a row and everyone would start calling me names. So I took what I was given whether I liked it or not, because that’s what poor people do.

This is where we used to get all of our back to school clothes. We’d order ’em through the catalog, get ’em at home, try ’em on, and send back what didn’t fit. We were classy. CLASSY!

(Please note my sarcasm, because I have nothing against either Walmart or Kmart clothing, as a rule. If it fits, I’ll wear it. If you came up to me wearing clothes from either place, I would have no idea where you’d purchased your clothing. Well, unless, I suppose, it said somewhere ON your clothing – say, on your shirt, “PURCHASED AT WALMART” or something. I have no eye for fashion. The closest I come to caring is watching Project Runway on a regular basis. Well, I don’t care much for t-shirts with wolves silk-screened on them. But does anyone? Does anyone, really? Wait, people do? Oh, ok, I’m sure they’re lovely on YOU. Carry on, then.)

Oh, well, I take it back. This one’s ok. I’d TOTALLY wear this one.

I had something else to tell you but I’ve clean forgotten it. I’m going to assume that’s because of the cat scratch fever, or maybe the cocaine withdrawal. GIMME MAH BLOW YO.

Off to watch a billion more episodes of Grimm so I can get caught up by Monday. I’m totally getting sucked into this show. Oh, guess what I learned on it? Listen, you know how I love love love all the German, right? Well, it’s all about fairy tales, so there’s lots of German in it. And in the episode I watched last night, I learned that the German for poison is – ready? Well, Ken already knows and I can sense him rolling his eyes with barely-controlled “OH AMY”-ness right now – the German for poison is gift. So if someone says they’re going to give you gift you, but they’re German, it might be wacky wordplay and they’re totally going to serve you an iocane powder smackdown. Gift, you guys! Could that BE any more wonderful? No, it could NOT, I won’t hear a single argument against it.

He’s about to get a gift. The German kind.

Alright, off to swoon and also malaise. SIGH SIGH SIGH DYING.*

(*Probably not at all dying)

Apparently, all the hot men in the world currently reside in Poughkeepsie.

Back from the play and a day from adventure! And listen, I’m pretty sure I might have almost died. ALMOST DIIIIIIEEEEDDDD.

Ah SWEAH ah could have DAAAHHHHD.

But, we’ll get to that. The almost dying was later.

So I got up CRAZY EARLY for a Sunday. Crazy crazy. Because I had to be in Poughkeepsie at 11. And it’s about a two-hour drive. And I get ready in the mornings like a poky turtle, all slow and shit. So I poked around getting ready and the news said, “WHOO IT’S GOING TO BE SO SCORCHY TODAY!” and I was all, huh, this is probably bad news.


See, I have no air conditioning in my car. It’s never had it. Well, probably it did once. Before it was my car, back when it was someone ELSE’S car. But since I got it, two or three years ago, whenever that was, it’s never had air conditioning. And air conditioning is expensive to fix, and it’s not an expensive car. It’s a Taurus. I love it, because it’s the most reliable car I’ve ever owned, but it’s not fancy. I mean, it has a tape player. And sometimes the interior door panels fall off if I close the doors too hard. But when I turn the key? It starts. And it’s only broken down on the side of the road one time. I love it. I’ve had some super-sketchy cars in my life. This one’s my rock, this car.

Not my car, but close enough.

Anyway, no air conditioning. The heat works just fine. It’s just the air conditioning that doesn’t work. And we really only need it from, like, late May to early September here, anyway. That’s not that much of the year. So every year, I’m all “eh, SO EXPENSIVE but also SO HOT” and then I don’t get it. Dad’s even offered to pay for it, but I feel it’s such a waste of money. So I feel terrible having him pay for something I can’t afford myself and that isn’t necessary for life, you know?

Anyway, I left early. It wasn’t so so hot. Just kind of hot. I opened the windows really wide and it was SO WINDY and I couldn’t even hear the radio at all or the GPS lady and also I put on a shit-ton of sunscreen because I burn like a fancy quiche the minute the sun touches me. I’m the worst.

This is what I use. SPF 100. One HUNDRED. And sometimes I STILL burn. I know. I’m broken.

I got there and YAY! Seeing C. and C.! And I didn’t even get lost a little bit! I got to meet their new cat. He is a very handsome tabby and very long and has a very giraffey neck and is very curious with HUGE eyes and was kind of scared of me but also interested in who this human was in his house that was not one of HIS humans. Also, I brought him a feathery toy, which he carried around in his mouth like he was a puppy. That was enjoyable. I liked him a lot. He’s a joyous crazy cat.

This isn’t him, but huge eyes like this. He’s very handsome.

Then we went to FANCY BRUNCH. Super-fancy. It was in this place that looked like probably it was a singles bar when it wasn’t a brunch place. There were a lot of weird booths like on dating shows, and the lighting was all red and blue and sparkly. It made our food look weird because the lighting over our food was red. I’m pretty sure at night, people catch a lot of gonorrhea there. BUT, there were no STDs there when we were having brunch. That I was aware of, anyway. We had many eggs and muuuuuch bacon, and teeny tiny waffles that were as cute as buttons, and pineapple and C. had a mojito which I’ve never tried before and she let me try some and it was pretty yum. I think I could order one of those someday and be pleased with the outcome. The place was super-swank, and when we walked in I was worried they’d notice I was not at ALL swank and say, “not today, Sally” and send me packing, but they didn’t seem to care. The people eating weren’t so fancy. Just the hostesses and the waitresses, really. It was very nice and I approved wholeheartedly. Oh, also, we talked and talked and talked and laughed and laughed. That’s what we do when we’re together. I have all the best times with C. and C.

Then then then! We drove around and I got to see the house that C. and C. are probably maybe totally going to be buying Z!O!M!G! A house! One of my oldest friends and her boyfriend are getting a HOUSE together, you guys! The cutest little house! On the cutest little street with all the trees! I was so happy I totally almost bounced. Or, kind of did. Kind of did bounce. I am so happy for them. This is big exciting wonderful amazing news.

Then it was on to Vassar, college that is reminiscent of Hogwarts! By that point, it had officially hit a billion degrees. OK, fine, 96 degrees. And luckily it wasn’t humid. But, still, 96 degrees. SO SO SO HOT. And we had to walk a million miles across the pretty Vassar campus to get to the theater. OK, I’m exaggerating by like 999,999.75 miles. But in all the heat, it SEEMED like a million miles. Vassar is still the prettiest, even though it’s going through a lot of construction right now. Probably to make it more Hogwartian, is my guess.

So we arrived at the theater, sweaty and disheveled. My hair was doing all KINDS of crazy sweaty poking-up things today. Which I didn’t even see until I got to the bathroom at the intermission, so I was totally all crazy-person-looking all through Act One. Nice! The theater was teeny-tiny and the set was awesome and we were right on the aisle in the front row. Oh, also, one of the ushers was so insanely handsome I wanted to lick him all over. WHOA WITH THE HANDSOME. And he was nice, and totally talked about Pixar movies with me, so also a little geeky. SIGH SIGH SIGH.

Hot usher told me the Pizza Planet truck was in all the Pixar films, which I was not aware of (but the whole internet already seems to know, because I’m out of the loop.)

Then the play! Chloe Sevigny was THREE FEET FROM ME! And she was very good! And so was the play! We were so pleased, because the last play we saw there was bad. SO SO BAD. Like, beyond bad. A kajillion times bad. I think I told you, it was based on The Crucible, and it was called Abigail/1702. It was the playwright’s imagining of what might have happened to Abigail Williams (the leader of the girls who accused the townspeople of witchcraft) ten years after the events of The Crucible. Since I love The Crucible so much, that could have either gone very wrong or very right, and YAY! It went very right! Chloe Sevigny played Abigail Williams, ten years later, haunted by what she’d done, and did it very well.

She looked just like she does on tv/in the movies. Her hair was shorter than I’d imagined – a little shorter than this. She looked great. Very glowy.

Patrick Heusinger played John Brown, a mysterious seafarer who enters her life. And HOLY HELL YOU GUYS. Now, he was very talented, and a wonderful actor, and I enjoyed his performance a great deal. But also? SO HANDSOME C. and I almost DIED.

None of these photos really do him justice. He was SO HANDSOME, you guys. Whoa.

At the intermission, I said, “What do you think the odds are that he’ll take his shirt off in Act Two?” and C. said, “Oh, we can only hope. WE CAN ONLY HOPE.” Guess what? He did. HE TOTES DID YO. And, oh, oh my. Abs and pecs and those hip-thingies that I don’t know what they’re called but they make me melt into a puddle of mush right there on the floor? Those things. WHOOOOOO. Apparently he was in Black Swan and Gossip Girl, but I barely remember him in either. Sad. Just sad, Amy. PAY MORE ATTENTION. (Shut up, yes, I watch Gossip Girl. I like pretty people doing silly things in New York City, and there’s often good music. Also, I like Ed Westwick. LEAVE ME BE.)

Yes, I realize, had I started young enough, he could be my child. That doesn’t mean I CAN’T find him attractive. Just means I probably SHOULDN’T.

So, yeah. The play was good. VERY good. Well written, well acted, gorgeous set and lights and sound design, touching, intelligent (we had a lot of thought-provoking discussion on the walk back to the car, which I LOVE) and I only had a couple of teeny-tiny nitpicks but they were probably done for a reason I’m not privy to so I’m down with them. Such a success for me. So pleased I got to see it. There was no question-and-answer after it, like I thought there was going to be, because I had the date wrong. Because I apparently cannot read a calendar. Like a grownup lady.

Then we walked a MILLION MILES (exaggeration!) back to the car, and C. and C. nicely gave me some water for my drive home. When I got to the car, I realized, huh. I might need more than this bottle of water. This car is HOT, yo. SO SO HOT.

Yep. I drank the bottle of water in the first fifteen minutes of my two-hour drive. I then stopped at a gas station and bought a HUGE bottle of water. Like, the next size down from a GALLON, huge. It was two dollars. That seemed like a very good deal. In retrospect, I should have bought more of those.

Probably should have bought all of these. MULTIPLES of all of these.

Then came the ALMOST DYING part of our tale. I drove home – about an hour and forty-five more minutes. Opening the windows and driving on the highway didn’t do much, because the wind blowing in was about 900 degrees. At one point, I almost started to cry from the heat, until I realized I HAD NO MORE LIQUID IN MY BODY TO WEEP WITH. I had SWEATED IT ALL OUT. I finished the GIGANTIC BOTTLE OF WATER before I even got home. (And it got hot about half an hour into my drive. So I was drinking hot water! Well. DELICIOUS.) Then I started getting sleepy. I realized this was because I was dehydrated and I got up really early and I couldn’t listen to the radio to keep me awake because I WAS DRIVING IN A WIND TUNNEL OF CAR because I had to have the windows open, to let in all the hot hot wind, and IT WAS SO SO SO HOT but it wasn’t like I could pull over and take a nap, because I would frizzle up and die.

Gah, THIS is a creepy illustration.

It was the worst drive of my life. Could have totally died. Or, not, probably. But when I got home, I drank glass after glass of ice water and I took a shower of COMPLETELY COLD WATER. Then I felt human again. And probably not dying. Also, for all the water I drank, I hardly peed, so either I sweated it all out, or maybe my kidneys have failed me due to my heatstroke.

There! My report on a VERY EXCITING DAY. Fun, right? Totally fun. I had the best time. Except for the almost-dying, of course. No one liked that part. Thank you for a wonderful day, C. and C!

I think I need to get one of those helmets with a canary in it.

Random crap Saturday? Sure thing, buckaroos, saddle up. 

Winning Aunting with ADD Trains 

So it’s almost The Nephew’s third birthday. His mom’s having a party for him in the rec park near his house, happily on a Sunday so that means I can attend. Yippee! I like seeing The Nephew. He’s very excited about his birthday. He tells anyone who asks “I’m turning THREE YEARS OLD!” I think he’s also reached the age where he realizes that with birthdays, come presents. I think that’s a very auspicious age, when you can connect the two. 

I am going to show you a picture of The Nephew. I know, this is probably pretty unprecedented. If any pervs show up searching like they did on my friend Mer’s blog once, I’ll come to your house and make you eat your own testicles as an hors d’oeuvre, I swear on all that’s holy.

This is a picture of The Nephew fishing with his dad recently. It is possibly one of my favorite things in existence, because LOOK AT THAT SKEPTICAL FACE. He is NOT SURE OF SOMETHING. I love this child. To pieces.

His party is construction-themed, because right now The Nephew is into construction vehicles like dump trucks. He should come to Albany! All we HAVE is construction right now, Nephew! Come on down! I think you’d be a little less enamored with it if you were stuck behind one of these big trucks and it was driving super-slow and you JUST WANTED TO GO HOME AND RELAX IN FRONT OF THE FAN DAMMIT, but maybe that’s just me. 

My mom checked with The Nephew’s mom to see what gifts he wants for this very important birthday, and apparently, the answer is Chuggington. Which sounds like a euphemism to me, honestly. “Hey, honey, what time are you getting home tonight? Because I think it’s time for us to try out the Chuggington, right? Wink wink nudge nudge!” 

What is Chuggington, you ask? Some train shit, I don’t know. He likes trains. He used to like Thomas the Tank Engine, but there’s a scary train on it so he stopped watching that one. Listen, I just checked the website to show you which train scares my beloved little buddy and there are a LOT of scary-faced trains. Why is this a children’s show? 

I don’t trust the smile on this one, he looks like a child molester.

The hell? This might give me nightmares and I’m a grown up old person. WHY SO MAD, DOUGLAS?

Hector looks like he just walked in on his mom doing it with the pool guy on a pile of his Christmas presents. HIS LIFE AS HE KNOWS IT IS SHATTERED.

I asked my mom which one scared The Nephew and she said this one. He is scared of it because of “The Claw.” GOOD GRIEF. This show is NOT FOR CHILDREN. When I told her that, she said, “Eh, it’s British, what can you do.”

Anyway, Chuggington. I’d never heard of this so I did some research. Here is what the internet tells me about Chuggington: 

Now, come on. “Let’s ride the rails” has to be a euphemism, right? RIGHT?

It is British
It is about talking trains
One of the talking trains seems to have ADD
One of the talking trains is colorblind
Two of the talking trains are mischievous
There is a “movie star chugger” who flies (…I don’t know either)
One of the trains is a douchebag and tricks the other trains
One of the trains is named Hodge and “it takes a lot to get Hodge excited” (I think I dated Hodge in college)
There is a zoo with animals in it (I’m down the zoo situation)
The show seems to exist to teach us all about FRIENDSHIP 

OK, FINE, The Nephew, I’ll get you some Chuggington birthday presents. I’ll research this shit at Toys R Us.

Good GRACIOUS there are a lot of Chuggington toys at Toys R Us. 102! I had no idea. Toys R Us! Never one to not jump on a trend when it’s hot! JUMP ON IT LIKE IT’S HOT TOYS R US! 

“Bridge and Tunnel Starter Set.” EUPHEMISM!!!!

The problem is, if I get him Chuggington toys, everyone ELSE is ALSO getting him Chuggington toys and there’s a chance he’ll get repeat toys and I hate that. I like to stand out in the gift-giving department like the shining star that I am. I really, REALLY like to win aunting. I only have one other person to compete with, but I like to WIN, baby. 

Last year I got him a scooter, which was a total win and he did all the scooting. What should I get him this year that is better than all the other gifts, but costs like $50 or so? People that have three-year-olds or know some three-year-olds, help me out here. Remember: this is not about anything but WINNING AUNTING. Oh, what’s that? Also making The Nephew happy? Oh, yeah, that too. THAT TOO. (No, but seriously, seeing his little face light up when I’ve gotten him a good present makes my Grinch heart break the measuring device every damn time. I’m an easy mark when it comes to The Nephew. This is going to be a problem when he’s older and the gifts he wants are like computers and things.) 

I think I’m dying of black lung 

So we’re in rehearsal for our Director’s Showcase which opens Thursday (well, and closes Thursday, it’s a one-night thingamabobber) and since our building is owned by the City and our ceiling is falling in, they decided to come and fix it right now. So we’ve been coming into rehearsal and the theater is in various stages of disrepair. You’d think it would get better, but it just keeps getting worse. One day we showed up and we couldn’t get down the aisles without squeezing through ladders (BAD LUCK BAD LUCK!) then we showed up a couple days later and there are no seats to sit in so we have to sit on the stage to watch the actors, because the seats are covered in plywood. (I don’t have to sit on the stage. I get my own ROOM to sit in. I’m in the light booth. I’m running the lights and sound for this one. I’m FANCY.) 

I had to move old disgusting ductwork in the lobby in order to close the theater door (you need the doors closed when you’re doing lights, otherwise you get spill from the lobby and you don’t know how your lights will look in a dark theater – there’s some theater inside info for you! Listen, before we’re done here, you’re going to be able to run your own theater, I swear) and my hands were so covered with nastiness when I was done that would NOT come off no matter WHAT I did that I’m pretty sure I’m dying of asbestos poisoning right now. Also, there are electrical cords everywhere, and I don’t know if any of them are live, so it’s like a game of chicken to walk anywhere. Will I live? Will I die? WHAT WILL HAPPEN? 

I know what will happen. I’ll get mesothelioma and have to call one of those TV lawyers to sue my own theater, is what will happen. Cough. Cough cough. 

Oh, what, you think I didn’t take photos? THINK AGAIN BUSTER.

This is the ductwork I had to move with my own hands. That left black shit all over my hands and pants. BLACK LUNGGGGG!

This is the inside of the theater right now. In front of you: the wood on the seats. Under that wood: the seats. To your far left, almost inaccessible: the stage. Directly in front of you, to the top: a ladder, precariously balanced. Directly in front of you near the bottom – a…snow shovel? I don’t know.

This looks like a haunted house but it’s the theater. Oh, hey, there’s my light booth near the top right, hi, my light booth! This is more seats, covered in plastic. And an abandoned bucket, all lonely-like. Some hard hats. And some wood. Heh. Wood. Also, to your left? ORBS. The theater’s totally haunted, yo. Call the Ghost Douche.

This is the ceiling right now. The ceiling that I’m sure is covered in asbestos. NO, I don’t know that for sure, but since when do I not exaggerate? Also, dangerous electrical cords, you know, like you want hanging out of a ceiling.

Also, Thursday, the workmen dropped a deuce in the toilet and didn’t flush, and left us a filthy tanktop on the table we serve refreshments from. You know. Like the classy people they are. THANKS WORKMEN.

(Listen, the show looks great, though. I like working on the director’s showcase because it’s a new director, and it’s fun to see what they can do and how they bring it all together. Well, I guess it’s fun if you like the director and they do a good job. In this case, she’s doing a great job, the show looks excellent, she’s got a wonderful point of view and I think the audience is really going to enjoy it. Also, she hasn’t even complained about the mess in the theater, which, hey, kudos. Don’t worry. I’ll complain enough for the both of us. That shit is CRAZY messy and gross.) 

Righto, guv’nuh. 

So tomorrow, I am going on an ADVENTURE. I know, right? I’m actually leaving my house and purposely going on an adventure. Are we all the most excited? Sure we are. 

Cute, right? So cute.

A new tea house/restaurant opened up very close to where I work, and when they were in the process of opening it, I saw the sign and mentioned to Ken, hey, there’s a tea place opening near me, when it opens, I should check that out. Then it opened, and I kind of forgot about it. SHUT UP, I have a lot going on. But then I remembered when I saw a review of it on one of our local blogs, so I checked out the tea selection and sent the link to Ken because he has to tell me if I’m allowed to go to places like this (I don’t know if tea is any good or not, what do I look like, fancy? No), and he said not ONLY am I allowed, I NEEDED to go. So, Sunday, I’m going to visit the tea place, and then I’m writing you all up the tale of my tea adventures on Ken’s tea blog. So you have to go THERE to read it. Yeah, it’s all a nefarious plot to get you to read Ken’s blog(s) as much as I think you all should, I’m not even denying it. Plus, Ken has promised to be my on-call tea expert should I run into any tea-related emergencies while I’m there. I’m sure I will. I can’t imagine I won’t. I’m also trying tea WITH CAFFEINE IN IT. I know, this could totally be the end of me. And by “the end” I mean it could cause a migraine to happen. But it probably won’t. It’s been a long time since the doctor told me that maybe caffeine was my migraine trigger. Who knows what will happen? It’s not going to hurt to try. And I really really REALLY want to see what Oolong tastes like. Ken makes it sound delicious. And since they don’t offer it as decaf, well, you can see my conundrum. 

Also, there’s totally a tea-related gift shop, and someone I know who was mentioned a billion times in the preceding paragraph has a prize package coming to him and tea relates to his interests, so that’ll be fun to investigate, now won’t it? Sure it will. What? What’s that? NO I haven’t finished shopping for the Bloggiversary Gift Package yet. Shush, you, I only got paid Thursday and we’re teching a show, I’m a little busy. 

So be ready for tea adventures! Oh, also there’s food. There’s totally food. I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty excited about the food, too. It looks delicious. 

OK, there’s three things. THREE RANDOM THINGS! Plus lots of pictures. I’m exhausted and I think I’m dying of maybe TB like Doc Holliday so now I should go around saying lines from Tombstone like “you’re a daisy if you do” and “I got two guns, one for each of ya.” HAPPY SATURDAY! Enjoy your day, it’s supposed to be lovely!

Nonsense. I have not yet begun to defile myself.

Accidentally taken off the shelf before the date stamped on myself

My day off? Oh, lovely, thanks for asking! Brief. Oh so brief. But lovely as hell.

Much of it was spent at Dr. Ernie’s office. Because – hey, guess what? MY EFFING UTERUS IS STILL TRYING TO KILL ME. I know, how long has this nonsense been going on? Forever, you say? That’s right. It has. You’re right.

So I called the doctor’s office and I was all, hey, let’s do something about the constant and perpetual pain I’m in, what do you say? And they talked to me in one of those calming and soothing voices they use for people who are holding a small puppy or child hostage with a flare gun. “Oh, you’re in pain? And your blood pressure is up? And you’re retaining water? And you’re shaky? And you’re headachy? Hmm. I wonder what could be causing THOSE issues?” THE EFFING PROCEDURE YOU DID IN FEBRUARY. Listen, I’m not sciency, but I’m smart enough to do research when I’m dying. EVERY ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE ON THE SIDE EFFECTS LIST DOC.

Also, don’t you think a doctor should be MORE NERVOUS that someone who’s always had low (to the point of it being a worry) blood pressure has – just in the past two months – developed high blood pressure, to the point of constant nosebleeds? Especially when it says, right on list of side effects, IF THIS HAPPENS CONTACT YOUR DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY? (What the subtext of that is, is “you’re about to keel over dead from the same kind of stroke that killed your gramma. DON’T DILLY-DALLY, FOR THE LOVE OF PETE.”)

So I went in today, and, apparently, the doctor’s office today was purgatory, what with the waiting. I had to wait twenty minutes for an appointment; I had to wait ten once I got in the room (again with my pants off – that place is aces about making you wait around pantsless, I swear), then, once the procedure was reversed (THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU) I had to wait ten more minutes for her to go get me a prescription for some medication that may or may not make my murderous uterus stop acting like an evil assassin. YOU ARE PART OF MY BODY, UTERUS. LET’S START WORKING AS A TEAM HERE.

Doesn't this uterus look nice? Mine would have an eyepatch and carry a shiv, it's so murderous.

Also, the doctor I saw today (who was NOT Dr. Ernie – I’m pretty sure he’s never there, because I never get to see him) told me that I had THREE MORE YEARS to have a baby. Well! It’s nice that there’s a timeline on that. I’d better get cracking. I guess after that, I’m done. Step one: decide if I actually *want* to have a baby. Step two: find someone I don’t hate to have that baby with, if I do, indeed, decide that passing these genes along isn’t the worst idea ever. Step three: laugh hysterically at the idea that the uterus that’s been trying to kill me since I was 14 would even THINK of carrying a child to term. Yeah. I think this is a plan already doomed to failure, you know?

But it’s nice to know that I have about 3 years to decide on such a thing, you know? So nice. I love that I have an expiration date. Like cheese! Or milk.

Apparently I have one of these stamped on my murderous uterus somewhere. Look out, murderous uterus. I'm coming for you.

Oh, and, just as a side note, this totally means I can no longer have ALL THE SEX. I know. It’s a total disappointment to all of those men I’ve been having all the sex with. Excuse me while I laugh myself into a hernia. The doctor was all, “You are aware you’ll have to use an alternate form of birth control now, correct?” and I was like, “Um…even if I’m not, you know, sexually active? Like, should I preventatively buy all the condoms? I’m totally going to Target later, I’m sure they have a pretty condom display, EVERYTHING IS NICE THERE” and she said, “Oh, well, no, then.” Oh, also she called using condoms “the barrier method” which made me laugh and think of those people who sleep with a board between them. That’s totally a barrier method, too. Only a more literal one.

Sexy, right? It's called bundling. You know what else is sexy? All those people making sure you keep your privates...well, private, I guess.

So I’d warn you against the procedure I had and go into detail that you probably don’t want but I’m pretty sure it works for everyone else in the world and just not me and my assassiny internal organs. So I won’t elaborate. YOU’RE WELCOME.

Then I thought, should I go look into new glasses? Then I realized, I didn’t have enough money to do that AND buy all the awesome things at the flea market. So, no new glasses in time for vacation. Which means, a million asshole photos of me with these STUPID TRANSITIONS LENSES from vacation. Grumble. But, next month. Yes yes yes. New glasses then.

Then I thought, there are TWO MOVIES PLAYING that I want to see. And I NEVER want to see movies! I should treat myself to a movie! (In case you’re wondering, I have TOTALLY HIGHBROW TASTES, and the two movies I want to see are Cabin in the Woods and The Hunger Games.) Then I thought, nah, first run over to Target and get some things and then decide.

LISTEN. Me at Target = INSANITY. I can’t get SOME things. I get ALL THE THINGS. First I say, “I need toys because I’m seeing The Nephew today and I want to win aunting. Then I want some antacid, because tax season made me run out. Then I want some toilet paper. THAT IS ALL I WANT.” Then I get to Target, and it’s so PRETTY! And so CLEAN! And I want ALL THE THINGS!

So I got food, and shower curtain hooks because I realized when I was there I’d broken two shower curtain rings and so I was dealing with two places my shower curtain was held up with hair ties (DON’T YOU EVEN JUDGE ME I AM POOR and listen, hair ties? That was an AWESOME and SMART workaround. I should have my own show on like the DIY network or something) and the shower curtain hooks were on CLEARANCE BA-BOOM BABY plus also they are the COOLEST and then I saw all these journals and I thought, you know how you are always having the most brilliant ideas when you are out and about but never any paper? BUY A DAMN JOURNAL YOU ARE A WRITER NOW so I did and then also cat food. Oh, and the stuff I came in for, of course. The Nephew got the best toys. I WANTED to get him this awesome car detailing kit where with LIGHT you could paint DETAILS onto TOY CARS but it was for ages 5 and up and he is not five or up. Well, intelligence-wise he is, let’s not get crazy. Also, the parts looked really small. What if he choked? I don’t want to be party to that. No no no.

Then I was too tired to go to the movies and I thought, I have a lot of writing I want to be doing, and also laundry, let’s go home.

I know. I’m really the most fancy on my day off, right?

THEN THEN THEN it was The Nephew time. The Nephew, his mom and I had dinner at a restaurant. The Nephew was QUITE WELL BEHAVED. I know! He’s really the best. I mean, a couple times he did toddler-style things, such as yelling or spitting an entire mouthful of food into his lap (and, when questioned why, he answered, in a very adult, rational tone, “I didn’t like that food,” and I tried SO HARD not to laugh, but it was in this little “I’ve completely rationalized this, Mumsy, and what ELSE would one have me do with this food that I am not enjoying? I mean, I couldn’t quite SWALLOW it, now could I?”) Then after dinner, it was PRESENT TIME, which I totally won. Apparently, he is VERY INTO the EXACT TYPE of cars I purchased, as evidenced by the Facebook photo of him playing with them in the dirt his mom posted about an hour after we parted. I win gifts. Well, except for the Playdoh. That was not a win, only because my mom bought him the same kit recently. But, hell, he can pull the Playdoh part of it out and play with that. No kid has ever had TOO MUCH Playdoh, now have they?

Also, he gave me a hug AND a kiss AND told me he loved me AND pretended to cut all of my fingers off with Big Bird scissors and laughed adorably when I told him I could never play the piano again and pretended to weep.

Three months until I see him again. Not that I’m counting down the days, or anything. No no not me.

OK, my delicious kiwifruits. I’m off to do a million things before conking out for a little sleep. Then it’s back to work for me tomorrow. The people of the Capital Region are NOT going to answer their OWN phones tomorrow, now ARE they?

Hope you’re having the happiest weekend of all the happy. Love your faces.

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