phrolf

i'm visually impaired.  like the... without-visual-aides-everything-within-a-one-foot-radius-of-me-is-a-blurry-blob ...kind of impaired.  so i've always considered my kinesthetic spatial finesse to be a balanced compensation for my crappy visual status.  it was a fair trade.  i have the visual prowess of a mole but i can navigate space like a heat seeking missile.

then i got pregnant.  and suddenly my intrinsic understanding of how to maneuver my body through space took a flying leap into a dumpster.  at first i assumed it was due to my growing belly.  said belly was shifting my center of gravity, leaving my inner sense askew.  no problem.  lose the belly - recenter the body.  that theory was systematically dismantled as i lost the baby weight but never regained my spatial finesse.

so now i am left with the frustration of walking into doorways, slipping down stairwells, and inexplicably tripping over invisible wrinkles in the sidewalk.  but beyond these gross motor joys, i seem to have an additional problem with small motor tasks involving my hands.  the most common recipient of casualties related to this impairment is my phone.  i have gone from heat seeking missile to telephone rocket launcher.  and let me tell you... that thing gets some serious air.

and anyone who has ever seen me attempt to throw a frisbee knows:
when i throw a flat object - you better duck.
[particularly if you're standing behind me.]

i think i may be close to answering the age old question, "how many throws does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a multimedia device?"

faux fur pas

i think i'm missing several mom genes.
and i don't mean mom jeans.
[i've never had any of those and if i ever did, i certainly wouldn't miss them.]

when i talk mom shop with others my internal monologue often consists of...
"really?"
"you do that?"
"huh?"
and my most frequent inward utterance:
"holy jesus.  it's two letters... en oh.  say it with me... no!"

[disclaimer: i am in no way insinuating that i am a parenting guru.  more to the point, i seem to be deficient in some aspects that make most mothers tick.  in other words, i am fully admitting that i may be a few diaper pins short of the nappy falling off.]

mentioning mom jeans has fueled my desire to turn this entry into an ode to my guilty television pleasure.  i once was an avid project runway viewer.  my interest has seriously waned and i now find myself multitasking while half watching the show, simply to hear the verbal gems that emerge like pearls from a battered mollusk.

i shall share some with you now:

"it looks like a pterodactyl from a gay jurassic park."

"jackie kennedy would not have camel toe."

"not a lot of women want to have cancelled stamped across their crotch."

"i think he's like reggae jesus."

"she looks like a barefoot appalachian lil’ abner barbie."

and my current favorite...  mostly because i'd totally rock the crap out of that dress.  (however, if it was well sewn that may be impossible.)

"wow, it's like a depends dress.  you'll never have to get up from your bar stool."

pillow talk

i've been noticing this freaky phenomenon going on in my bed. 

when i go to sleep at night my pillow is sharply dressed.  the case is neat and tidy, the corners are perfectly aligned.  when i wake up in the morning it looks like a bum dressed in a linen suit during an august heat wave.  the seams are running down the middle and the pillow is spilling out of the side like it's attempting to abort a mission.

i'm seriously baffled by this.  i know i'm a pillow flipper.  i generally flip for the cool side at least once before i fall asleep.  but what the hell am i doing to my poor pillow in the night?  impromptu wrestling?

evidentiary support

i know it's september.  this is not simply because at a young age i was taught about the months of the year and their consecutive order.  environmental evidence proves it is such.  indicators include...

- small children loitering on street corners at the wee hours of the morning weighed down by backpacks twice the size of their bodies.
- the necessity for office supply stores to label their floors with super large arrows to direct the throngs of panic stricken customers into "the checkout line."  and they still manage to eff it up.
- my bouts of nostalgia kick into hyper drive. 
- the smell in the air is a lovely mix of cool breeze and the onset of decay.  (yes, my secret is out... i think decaying vegetation smells lovely.)
- there is widespread driver amnesia upon entering a rotary.
- the sidewalks look like an episode of hoarders.

pet peeve tangent:  why don't people donate their crap?  for the love of god, there are services that will come to your home and pick it up, you lazy schmuck.  and have you ever noticed that people often tend to relocate their unwanted furniture to the sidewalk on a rainy day?  this act mystifies me.  it's like they're saying...  "i don't want my couch anymore, but i don't think i want you to have it either."

so, it's september.  the indisputable evidence proves this fact.  i will blink and it will be october.  i'm okay with this time warp.  it means... beautiful bronze colors, crisp cool air, amazingly enormous moons, hoards of candy, sexy knee high boots, cozy sweatshirts, and dressing in costume.  october is my favoritest month.  and no, it's not just because it's my birthday month.  though birthday spankings are always a draw.

what in carnation?

current proof that delilah was a performance artist in her former life:  

• she has been found doing "the robot" in the driveway.  

• she has a penchant for wearing a pair of white gloves in a mime-like manner.

• she has perfected the art of the soap opera cry at age two.

• she is, at this moment, standing in her crib with an imaginary microphone in hand, waving to her fans while saying, "thank you!  thank you!"

not nobel prize swedish... more like swedish chef swedish.

my award worthy thoughts for the day:

a)  the "smaller plate" portion management technique only works if you don't scarf down thirds.

b)  it is impossible for a google doc to be a "living, breathing" document.  though versatile, i'm fairly certain its versatility does not include a respiratory system.

c)  driving your SUV with 20+ balloons flying out of the driver's side window is not advisable.  however, neither is stuffing them into the vehicle with you.  that just screams driving hazard.

d)  despite what my dog apparently thinks, my skirt does not double as a flying carpet while i'm walking down the stairs. 

e)  none of the above.

this was a test of the emergency broadcasting system.  in the case of a true emergency, you should remain calm and remember that according to the children, "it is opposite day."