"Biblical Proportions" would be a great name for a band.
I just spent the last hour thinking about pickles and nothing else. When I finally broke, I actually ran (well, shuffled quickly; I'm wearing socks, and the floors are slippery) down the hall to the refrigerator. Half the jar is gone now. I'm so glad the foods I always crave the most (except chocolate) have like three calories. Or I would be a very fat woman.
We went to a friend's birthday party tonight. It was fun. The cake was awesome. No, I mean, wow. It's the kind of cake that makes your mouth squirt saliva when I think about it six days later. We took The Child with us, of course. Well, we thought about leaving her at home by herself, but we've been finding booze bottles under her crib and used-up cigarettes in the radiator, so we thought it best to bring her with. She handled it very well, only falling apart about ten minutes before we left. The nice thing about noisy parties is that when your child starts freaking out, the only elements of Purple Rage people notice are the visual ones (she turns a beautiful shade of eggplant). Scream all you want, kid! No one can heeeeeeear youuuuuu! Mwahahahah.
Anyway, this party was a surprise party arranged by her husband, from whom James got the invitation. I didn't know this until we were in the car on the way there; James forgot the word "surprise" when he told me about it. It is only by magical coincidence that I didn't spill the beans to her her in an email I wrote yesterday. I've never ruined a surprise before, and I'm a little disappointed that I missed my chance. Next year, maybe.
I've discovered Yahoo! Answers. I didn't even know I had a Yahoo! account until today, when I stumbled upon a Yahoo! Answers answer after Googling something. I think it was maybe "why won't my baby stop crying" or "what decibel and frequency makes plaster crack".
(yeah, we had a rough day)
That website just *schlooped me in. I started answering questions. I tell you what, nothing makes you feel more superior that Yahoo! Answers. "i gots som prenatals left ova. im gunna just crush em up an mix wit water cuz i don wanna by formula... how much u think baby need" Yes, for serious. That was a real question. And I'm pretty sure the question asker was yanking our chains, but I still started foaming at the mouth. I tell you people, righteous indignation is addictive.
*Yes, I made it up. The noise it makes when you say it seemed appropriate.
The child had another haircut today. We have actual hair cutting scissors instead of meat cutting scissors, and I actually thought about it in advance instead of just hacking away willy-nilly and leaving random gouges in The Child's head suit. Dare I say it, she looks adorable. And fuzzy again. She'll be fourteen before I allow her to grow her hair long enough to lie flat.
I'm off for my end-of-the-night smugness fix. Look for me a Yahoo! Answers.
(Why is it that that ! in the middle of "Yahoo! Answers" drives me crazy, but I'm totally okay with very inappropriate parentheses usage?)