Tuesday, March 27, 2012

3 Semi-Decent Reasons I Haven't Written About My Crazy Philippines Trip Yet

1. I'm pretty sure I broke my toe. I was carrying S., my almost-19-lb. megababy who is probably going to be Andre the Giant-sized by preschool (and hopefully just as poetic--because even if I was really mad, if my son answered my demand to "Go to sleep now, I mean it!" with "Anybody wanna peanut?" I would be so charmed I might even put down my decanter of Malbec and sing him a lullaby in my best Zooey Deschanel-on-Quaaludes voice, which I have perfected by doing rage kegels while watching her cotton commercial approximately 16,000 times), and I walked into my coffee table, which is a totally stupid way to (maybe) break my first bone. Anyway, it might not be broken, I don't know. My mom says it might just be "jammed," which is something I once did to my finger playing basketball in high school--and I know what you're thinking: How is it possible to injure oneself shooting Granny-style free throws with both hands? To which I say, touché, and also, I was probably really stiff from trying to fake period cramps. Regardless, everyone should feel sorry for me. Especially because...

2. My wonky eye is back. Which means I've been self-medicating with bodily fluids again, and the only thing more attractive than a woman with a limp and a swollen red eye is if that eye also has a milk mustache. Jeff is so turned on that his central nervous system completely shuts down and he's passed out before I even set foot in the bedroom.

3. I had to set aside time to watch Mad Men, and NOW I have to learn the lyrics to something sexy and French to perform for Jeff once my limp subsides. Like maybe...

Voila mon passport! See? Full circle, topical.

Long story short: Somehow they let us back in to the US. It was probably my Zooey Deschanel impression.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Planes, Trains, Banes and Strains (and In-Flight Champagnes, Lest I Go Insanes)

I found out long ago (Ohhhhhhhhhhhh)
It's a long way down the holiday road (Ohhhhhhhhhhhh)

Tonight, Jeff, S. and I will embark on our very own National Lampoon's Asian Vacation, a pilgrimage to a dear friend's wedding in the Philippines.

Holiday roooooooo-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad
Holiday rooooooooooo-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!

I am already having stress poops over this. Don't pretend you don't know what I mean.

Because why not take your longest-ever flight with a tiny person strapped to your lap who, unlike you, has not moved his bowels in three days? (Incidentally, does that count as an explosive? I'll have to check the TSA's website.)

But dudes. My eyes today are all glassy and wild, like Michelle Bachmann's when she tries to blame swine flu on Jimmy Carter, or Tyra's when she surprises the ANTM girls with a trip to a third-world "fashion capital."

Come to think about it, I wish we were ANTM finalists right now--and not for the obvious reasons like getting to balance on stilts while dressed as racial stereotypes. No, it's for the travel perks. Instead of being on a sixteen-hour flight to Hong Kong, followed by a two-and-a-half-hour flight to Cebu, followed by a ferry to a smaller island, all with an infant whose most recent learned skill is shrieking loudly for no reason and then trying to rip my nose off of my face--a trip that not even Steve Martin and John Candy could survive, as I got tired just typing out those hyphens--we would just take a quick, six-second airplane graphic across a neon laser map of indiscriminate continents, all on the CW's dime:

(Since I'm already having nightmares about flying with a five-month-old, rounding out the imaginary flight manifest are Carrot Top, Kimmy Gibler, drunk Nick Nolte, and Dana Carvey as Norman Bates The Church Lady.)

I have stuffed my carry-on full of contingency plan supplies: four outfits for the baby, scented hazmat bags for soiled clothing, books, toys, tampons and extra underpants (HA, after fifteen months I think I qualify as a desert according to the U.S. Geological Survey, but I know Mother Nature would just looooove to prank me like that), food, Raffi and anti-spouse-kill meditation tracks on the iPod. The only thing missing is some duty-free booze and a pile of Us Weeklys that can double as emergency raft toilet paper, but that's what airport shopping is for.

OK, fine, maybe I'm being a little over-dramatic. I should focus on the positives, right? Like how, after this trip, I will fear nothing--not even toilet rats. Or how Nolte is probably packing some potent sedatives.

It still wouldn't hurt to pray for us, though, as we (possibly literally) lose our shit over the Pacific. In return I promise not to send any smug vacation Tweets about how strong the daiquiris are at the swim-up bar. Deal?

Wednesday, March 7, 2012


Jeff: How's your work* going?
Me: Oh. I'm done. I'm just reading through old blog posts, remembering wistfully when I used to have creative energy. I used to bring it every day.
Jeff: Girl, you still bring it.
Me: False. But... I guess some day I'll look back on this time and feel good about the fact that I gave all of my energy to raising our son, instead of to crafting witty blog posts.
Jeff: Eh, that depends. If he's a success, then yes. If he still lives at home when he's 45, you'll probably regret not making more graphs about your vag.

*This is code for "watching The Voice on Hulu at a very low volume while filling a Baby Gap online shopping cart with tiny fedoras and Guayabera onesies.

I just ate two boxes of frozen Samoas and my entire colon is now a macaroon. Which is true. But also...
It's just been announced that I will be part of the cast of the very first Listen To Your Mother show in New York City on May 6! This means that someone is letting me read my writing "out loud" in front of an "audience" even with my hair "the way it normally looks." 

This is what I look like when I perform in public. Note Jeff's avoidance at looking at my awesome chicken dance lest all other women be ruined for him.
 I'll let you know when tickets go on sale.

Friday, March 2, 2012

If The Artist Can Do It, I Probably Can't

...but that doesn't mean I won't.
Happy Friday, folks!
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...