So today's been a lousy day, partly because we're getting another 10 inches of snow tonight, but mostly because it's the anniversary of my darling Grandma's death. It was so typical of her to die on Leap Year Day, “Oh, I don't want you to be sad about me except once every four years.” In any case, when I left the house this afternoon to run errands, I had a letter in my mailbox from a California State head honcho, letting me know I have unclaimed property in a retirement account that totals more than six hundred bucks! And this could not be more oddly coincidental because yesterday, I wanted to send tulips to my mom, to help ease the hurt of the anniversary of her mother's death, but the promo code didn't work and I do not have it in my budget to spend fifty bucks (!) on tulip delivery, so I had to trash the order. And now I find out that fifty bucks is less than ten percent of the “free” money I get to claim (if I didn't know about it, it's considered free).
So thanks Grandma. I miss you more than once every four years, I assure you.
LOST just keeps getting better this season. Tonight, we get to see Desmond with short hair. Ya know, he kind of looks like Ty Pennington!
Not much happened today except when we were in the car to get the boy from nursery school, I squirted what I thought was the contents of a sample pack of hand lotion into my palms, only to realize it was actually hand *soap*. Who gives out samples on hand soap, anyway? Monstro wanted to pull over but I had some napkins in the center console and was able to wipe my hands clean. At least it smelled good.
Rami's in. Chris is out. Human hair = nails in coffin.
I took my boy for lunch at a Chinese restaurant, after an ill-fated attempt to get his hair cut, and he was quite fascinated by the chopsticks on the table. “Open! Open!” he demanded, so I separated them and he had a lovely time stringing pretzels on them. The waitress noticed his progress and brought him some chopsticks that were rubber-banded together with a bit of paper serving as a fulcrum. She helped him eat the first bite of tempura, and then he went. to. town. By the end of the meal, he was successfully eating rice! Rice! The hostess, who was in her 50s, said, “I can't even eat rice with chopsticks.” Very cool. And then, to cap it off, the fortune in his fortune cookie read, “You have a deep appreciation for the arts and music.” Truer words were never written; you should see him color and dance.
I've been thinking a lot about food lately, and as I don't think I ever posted our Christmas dinner menu, here it is:
Obligatory green-bean casserole
Prime rib with Horseradish crust
proscuitto-wrapped figs (omiword these were soooo good)
Eggnog-pannetone bread pudding (this was not good at all; too boozy)
My adoring and adorable fans, I have asked my publisher if my book will be available at amazon.com or any other online outlet. Haven't heard back, but if the answer is no, I'll buy a carton of books and sell 'em out of the online equivalent of the trunk of my car for five bucks apiece, plus shipping. Probably be around seven dollars, total. I'll keep you posted, believe me.
The best Oscar moment to top all Oscar moments, ever, was when Jon Stewart brought the woman from Once (great film) back on stage to say her thank-yous. Classy, classy, classy. Kept me and Monstro from going to bed all ticked off at the orchestra conductor. Whoot!
I pretty much just had the best hour of my life. After going grocery shopping, I stopped in at a downtown Northampton bookstore/cafe and bought a copy of my book! Living in Northampton and Amherst 2008-09 looks great and even features a photo taken by moi on the cover. I brought the book to the counter and told the clerk, “This is my book and I'd like to buy it.”
And then I went home and got laid. Pretty awesomely satisfying hour in the life of Motormouth, ohhh yeah!
The other day, Monstro and I were standing on the kitchen side of the baby gate. Monstro put his arms around me from behind and started kissing my neck. Then our boy ran up to his side of the gate, proclaiming, “Mutter! Mutter!”
At first I thought the German I've been speaking to him was starting to pay off, but then we realized what he was actually saying was, “My turn!”