The last few days I have noticed little itty bitty moths in the kitchen. I sort of ignored them, assuming some weird late summer neighborhood infestation. I did think it weird since I have had the windows closed and the air on most of the week – but with the construction in the neighborhood I have seen more spiders recently, so I chalked it up to “whatever”.
Last night there were like 6 of them on the walls above the cabinets. Weird. I got the ant spray out, because it was all I had and started squirting and taking those little fuckers out. I am not sure how I moved through the kitchen – I think the shock may have blocked out the sequence of events. But I opened the spice cabinet- the one jammed full of spices, baking items, olive oils, vinegars – the cabinet that when I moved here almost 3 years ago I carefully lines all the shelves with this waffle-y, sponge-y stuff to protect the cabinet beneath.
As I opened the cabinet I notice chrysalis carcasses in the waffle-y stuff, sticking up looking like amber or honey that has dried. And I begin to freak the fuck out. There are another dozen moths in the cabinet. A cabinet I open multiple times a day to grab olive oil. How did I not see this? Am I blind?
Being one really tough girl, I cover my tank top with a sweatshirt, because now those little hairs that are falling off of my head are creating dances of madness because I am convinced every little tickle is a moth. I arm myself with tongs and start to pull items out of the cabinet. I throw away hundreds of dollars of spices – anything not in a closed ziploc bag or factory sealed gets chucked into the trash and sprayed with ant spray for good measure.
And again, because I am tough I call my mommy. While on the phone, pulling things out of the cabinet with tongs, I find the culprit. I don’t know how, or why, but there is a little plastic box of dried shitake mushrooms – now blobs of grossness covered in little moth eggs. They hitched a ride from god only knows where to Whole Foods and then into my cabinet, where I am taking bets the heat woke them up and told them to go forth and multiply.
I then did the only thing I could do – bleach the fucker down. I started with the cabinet and moved onto the rest of the kitchen for good measure.
Those of you coming to my house Sunday will feel better knowing I am not serving anything that has been in this house for more than a day. And that I am running EVERYTHING I OWN through the dishwasher. If for no other reason than to wash away the memories.
Filed under: Family
People, I try to stay off my soap box as much as possible, but today I have a message
WEAR YOUR FREAKING SUNSCREEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The mom just had horrible facial surgery to remove some skin cancer. She had let it go too long, and it was much worse than all the doctors originally thought. This type of cancer is the lowest in severity, but it has to be removed. And now she looks like hell.
To be more accurate if she had a hump and limp she would look like Quasimodo. Or maybe Sloth from the Goonies. Poor woman. She has a huge bandage covering most of her nose and her eye is swollen shut -the poor skin pulled so tight it is painful to even look at it.
All day yesterday, while she was being scraped and cut for 8 hours all I could think was that I would never, ever, ever go without sunscreen again. Learn from the mom. Put on some SPF 30 right now.
Filed under: that damn internet
Oh My Gawd, you guys!
Your comments are cracking my shit up over here.
Turlie and your running commentary – I am so naive – but you are so right – too old to be in the Olympics! And he got a free feel!
And Catwalker – you complete me. Haha =))
Filed under: Drinking
Young pups.
The love me. I do nothing yet they love me.
Last week he was 26 and looked so hot. I found his myspace page today. Um…..he might be a political freak.
Tonight it was Derrick. Derrick tells me he is almost 28. Derrick is training for the Olympics. As a runner. I think running is evil.
Then, for no reason, he grabbed my boob. Then he called it a titty. And I had to tell his Kansas City bred ass that I was not a stripper and I was too old for any part of my body to be referred to as a ‘titty’ and that he was not to touch my boobs again. Even if he had great teeth and 4% body fat.
Cocktail: Vodka and Cran
Appetizer: Brie and Crackers
Conversation: Rocks.
The rub: Home on instant messenger with a good friend while wearing boxers and a wife beater and watching ANTM reruns.
What? Is there something wrong with that? It is the perfect Friday night, right?
Filed under: Uncategorized
Every year I attend this sort of motivational seminar in San Diego.
Some people scoff (like the gentleman I interviewed with today for a jobbie job in SF, more on that later). But I always figured you get “it” where ever you want. For some that might be church and the promise of an afterlife, for others it is in the act of populating the world with little brats, others may paint or view art or deface buildings.
I get mine for $600 for 2.5 days of feeling like there is hope for the life you REALLY want to be living. That dreams do not have to remain in your head. That you can ask the cosmos for ANYTHING your heart desires. ANYTHING. And if you keep it foremost in your mind you just might obtain it. That you don’t have to settle – there are always other options.
This was my fourth year. I have the whole trip laid out to a science. Stay here, right across the street from the convention center. Sit here, it is easier to get out when the breaks happen. Pee in a bathroom as far down the concourse as you can walk – the cattle always stop at the first bathroom and start a line. I am not waiting with another 5000 people in line to pee, thankyouverymuch.
But this year was different. The entire conference theme was inspiration. And the first point was that there is no motivation without inspiration. And it was oh-so-true. The second point was that we are all inspirational – we just don’t know it at the time. Nor did anyone else we deem inspirational. They were just trying to survive, get to the next step, move forward.
So without going into the gory details suffice it to say I am inspired. For the first time in 4 years of attending I get that just writing the goals does not make it happen. You must study the goals, think about the goals, and really, really want the goals. I can want ANYTHING. Because I do not have to settle for where I am at. And it is ok to ask for crazy things. And for the record, I plan to.
I don’t care what makes you happy to be on this planet – I just encourage you to find it, like I am.
Filed under: Cats
For the last 2 days I have been mentally posting to you all about the fab conference I was at.
It all came to a crashing halt when I got in my moms car at the airport – it was 100 degrees below zero. “It was the only way I could get your cats to stop beating the hell out of each other “she says. And I turn around and there are my boys in a crate hissing and spitting.
Well, one is hissing and spitting. The other is cowering. I feel like I might barf. I get the high strung cat out of the carrier (he was not my first choice, but the other cat was so upset he would not move or look at me.
So I take the 25 minute drive home to calm the hissing and spitting cat in my lap and keep trying to peer into the crate. Hoping I am not going to need an emergency vet.
I guess she had planned on dropping the cats at my house but for some reason did not have a key, which she kept trying to make my fault? She has a key. And I was away – it would seem logical that I had locked my doors.
When I landed I called their house since I was 15 minutes early and my dad told me my mom was heading home since she could not get in and the cats were not playing nice in the crate. But after my call she said fuck it and decided an extra hour in the crate would be a good idea?
My mom kept telling me how bad it was. And all I can think is why the hell didn’t you turn around? These poor animals do not deserve this. I could have waited. So I finally snap and tell her that her blow by blow is not helping my guilt or my worry. I love these cats – they are my children, and THIS is what happens when I leave? I am speechless. I want to ask her what the hell she was thinking but I cannot do anything other than talk sweet nothings to the stressed out cat in my lap who is a hair away from tearing my frigging eyes out.
And for the first time I really wonder about my parents judgement. Not something I have ever wondered – but this is so out of character – that they would not think of the well being of my animals first that I am left to ponder.
Needless to say from now on I will have to trust a stranger with my babies.
I wonder how long the guilt will last? My stomach is still upset from it.
Filed under: Drinking
Just yesterday morning, while on my hike I was saying how uninterested I am in men right now. But put a few vodka tonics in me an the truth comes out, don’t it?
I am sitting here trying to remember the last time I went out, got drunk and flirted my ass off. I think it has been awhile.
Topics covered last night:
-Physics (cuz I am a nerd)
-Georgia O’Keefe and vag art. Which turned into some conversation about how men are afraid of the vagina. Yeah….so….he started it.
-Gray pubes.
-My renditions of Blue Planet (some of you will be happy to know I did not demonstrate) .
-How much I suck because I do not have HBO.
Today I am hungover. And not just a little bit hungover – french fries, vitamins, diet coke and aspirin for breakfast hungover.
I am leaving to go get on an airplane and head to sunny San Diego for a few days.
We will return to our regularly scheduled fuckery when I return.
Filed under: Life in the Burbs
A night out. Local dive bars. We were sort of adopted into a bachelor party. One of them came back hours later to get my number (after dropping off the drunk bachelor and friends). OF COURSE he lives in another state. We are soul mates – thinking ourselves funny when no one else does.
In true playa style there was a young pup, too. He looked a bit like Jake G. Enough to make my knees weak (or some other physical response that is less lady-like). Hot and young and smart and funny and oh-so-cute. I actually checked out his ass when he went to the bar – and I am not an ass checker.
And why the hell did I not make out with either of them?
The last boyfriend was there for awhile. There was no drama which was nice. I think he left early, after I started up with the young pup.
I am drunk – in case you care.
