How can that be? One minute you are obsessing over nursery school and then you turn around and you have been at this for 24 years. And by some miracle you haven’t messed them up.
Yes, kiddies, today marks the 24th birthday of my girl. And oh what a difference a year makes. Since 23 she has found her dream job, moved into her own apartment and learned to balance a tight budget.
There is so much I can say about her, but mostly I want to thank her for being such a good sport about posing, for always being there to make me laugh and most of all for constantly reminding me why I was put on this earth.
To be a mom.
I love you Petuney; and I could not be any prouder of who you have become. May this be your best year ever!
Time: 6:45 am
Gary: Nooooo! Uch, now YOU get it.
Me: Ummm… you would be talking to who?
Gary: No, I am not kidding, you get it.
Me: (walking into the bathroom where I see both Gary and the Iko looking into the toilet) WAIT, I need to get a camera.
What, you thought I was going to stick my hand in the toilet to get that bone? Yeh, right! Yes, that is what that was, a bone. I have had people guess it was a sock and a condom. Seriously? A condom in my house? With my sans uterus, way past childbearing old arse?
Gary: She needs to get that out of the toilet. Go ahead Iko, you dropped it in there, now you get it out.
Iko: Gives the universal Lab look of ‘are you f’in kidding me’, turns around and walks out of the bathroom.
Me: Guess that leaves you, my sweet. Don’t worry, I just cleaned that toilet… um, when was that again.
He is hard pressed to believe I did not put the dog up to this… perhaps that will make him think next time he leaves the seat up ; )
Happy Tax Day! Contradiction in terms? Yeh, who is happy today besides the accountants who can finally have a weekend off again?
So, ya think this car is driven by an accountant? I thought so too. But I saw it in a parking lot at the mall on April 13th. What respectable accountant would be shopping with the looming deadline?
A retired one?
Coming out of the supermarket the other day I started loading the bags into my car (don’t judge me for not carrying reusable bags, I am lame), when I came across this bag with the eggs and…
Please tell me in what universe this made sense to a cashier?
I am very proud to say that I was a supermarket cashier in high school and I took great pride in bagging like items so that unpacking the groceries would be easier. Yes, even as a teenager I was an OCD Virgo.
Since having this job I understood the importance of putting like items on the belt together so that the bagging task would be easier. A little pay it forward for the poor cashiers who work their butts off on their feet all day.
Except for this guy, who was obviously getting high on his break .
What do you think the people in the parking lot were thinking when they saw me taking a picture of my groceries?
Don’t answer that.
I could not love this picture any more. I crossed the street to take a shot of this canvas hanging on the back of a truck on West Broadway, and this guy stopped in front of it just as I was taking the picture.
Art is so often created by happenstance.
Walking down the street with me is not a bargain. Those who know me well know my famous, “Go ahead, I’ll catch up.” Those who love me unconditionally (AKA, offspring and BFFs) smile and know this is just the price to pay for hanging out with me. I make up for it in other ways. Those who are married to me (the subset of one) are incredibly tolerant and will even stand in a situation for my amusement (and theirs later on).
So, this image begs the question, “Why are crazy people such good lovers?” Here is a little exercise. Jump out of lurking mode (I know you are all there, I check the stats) and feel bad enough for my sorry ass to leave some comments answering to one or more of the following topics:
- Define crazy.
- Decide if this makes you more likely to admit that you are.
- In your experience, is there a direct correlation between being crazy and being a good lover?
Amuse me kiddies, I have had a tough few months!
We came across this piece on the street and I am still wondering why I did not buy it. I am thinking I need to go back next Sunday in the hopes the vendor will be there.
I have read a lot of dog philosophy over the years, but none is quite as perfect as this.
Floss for people over 50?! Really?! Please tell me who thought this was a good idea. Marketing a product that specifically targets an age group sitting snugly on the tail end of the baby boomers. You know us. We hardly see ourselves as grow ups, let alone ones with aging gums. What is the likelihood that you will find us buying old people’s floss? Pro health “for life”. You know, because dead people don’t floss all that much.
If my Facebook page is any kind of focus group, I am thinking this one is not going to be a big seller. Here are some comments after I posted this picture and mentioned I would be writing a blog post about it:
I won’t be able to read the blog. I will be experiencing dental conditions because I don’t have this floss.
This floss is for dentures!
As opposed to floss for death? Who flosses in heaven? Doesn’t heaven mean no cavities?
is the font bigger so we can read the label without our glasses?
And an all-time fave:
Maybe it’s dipped in laxatives, vitamins and anti depressants.
They should just dip it in wine!
Still surprised that Dr. Jimmy has not weighed in.
Is it bad to admit that I saw this while picking up my blood pressure meds?
I would like to start this post by assuring you that no animals were harmed just for a laugh.
We spent the afternoon on The High Line today. It was a glorious afternoon and there was a
claustrophobic mass of humanity nice crowd out there enjoying the day with us. The thing about The High Line is that it was built after many of the apartments that are adjacent to it. I would imagine those who previously had lovely private terraces and windows facing what was an abandoned raised train track are now less than thrilled to have throngs of people strolling past their windows every day. I would also imagine that the window treatment biz picked up in this neighborhood after the completion of this extraordinary public gem.
I digress. One of these very not-so-private apartments facing the walkway had this cat wedged in between the couch and the window. At first a crowd started to gather and point in horror that this poor animal had been neglected and was now in its final resting place for all to see.
Until the little sucker moved. It sort of stretched and repositioned itself and settled back into its big snooze under glass.
This confirms my theory that cats are more than a little messed up in the head.
My favorite conversation:
Man: It’s not real.
Woman: Sure it is, didn’t you just see it move?!
Man: That doesn’t prove it’s real.
Me: (to myself of course) IDIOT!
Early each morning at the crack of dawn I unwrap my day during a peaceful walk with my dog. I often snap an amusing sight and post it to facebook in realtime. These are sort of little notes to myself for blog posts. This was one such image.
These ridiculous blow-up lawn ornaments can be seen all over the zip code from late September through early January. We start with the ghosts and pumpkins, roll into the turkeys and then hit the crescendo of lawn tackiness with the vast array of Christmas offenses. There is everything from the mundane Santa through to enormous snow globes with full nativity scenes or reindeer extravaganzas.
Early each morning you can drive through town and see at least half of them deflated on the front lawns of our less tasteful neighbors. It is as if someone has driven around in the cover of night pulling the plugs on all these babies.
I swear it is not me. But I do applaud whoever it is.
In this one instance, I have a sneaking suspicion it was the patriotic ghost.
A picture speaks 1,000 words and a word can inspire 1,000 pictures.