Every Little Thing
2004-10-22, 12:37 p.m.

She does is magic? Ummm, not so much. I don't really have anything going on in my life that is worth mentioning, but if I keep acknowledging that, I'll never write. So here are some of the things that are keeping me "busy" lately.

Well, as follow-up to the last email to my Pop re: him voting for Bush, I got an email back saying, "Wow. You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?" Read: "Have you been taking your medication?" But really, it was a short email, saying, "You're wrong and I'll let you know why. But just not right now." My parents were hurrying off to the Bahamas on a cruise with their Churchie friends. So, while they were gone, I left messages on my Pop's cell phone saying things like, "Did you have to leave the country to escape the truth? Well, at least you're away from Florida so there's no chance you'll be hit by a nukelar bomb" and "I've been checking the internets to see how your weather is. And both of them say it looks good" and "Must be nice to be on a cruise, it's not the kind of hard work, hard work, hard work, hard work, hard work, hard work that some people have to do" and more of the same. I love to get him crazy, which doesn't happen very often, but the danger in trying to get him loco, is that it can easily switch over to getting my mom riled up. And that's just trouble, because there's no discussion, there's just talking-overs and illogical conclusions and emotional blathering. I mean, I love my mom dearly, and this may sound mean--I don't intend it to be that way--but my mom is the type of person that doesn't usually have all the information and doesn't really care if she has all the information about something because she isn't trying to make up her own opinion. She's basically just parroting what she's heard. And what she's heard is mostly from my Pop. Which is why I sent him the email in the first place (and why the little jab about her vote being his vote).Meh, maybe we hate most what we see in ourselves.

Anyway, my parents get off the cruise and Pop calls me and says, "Boy, are you in for it, kid. Wait till I get to work to email you back." And then we talk about normal things, bleh blah bloh. And then my mother gets on the phone and more bleh blah bloh about the trip again, and then as I'm about to get off the phone I get this:

Her: I just have one thing to say. (If you knew my mother, you'd realize how laughable that is, because she never has one thing to say, and yet she prefaces her monologues with this frequently.)

Me: Yeah? (Knowing it's coming.)

Her: (accusingly) I read that little email you sent Pop.

Me: Yeah?

Her: AND YOU ARE SO WRONG! YOU ARE SO NAIVE! KERRY IS SUCH A LIAR, I CAN"T BELIEVE THAT YOU BELIEVE ALL OF THAT. I MEAN, ALL THOSE LIES ABOUT....

Me: The War? The Tax Cuts? The Environment? Mommy, you're confused, you're talking about your boy, Dubya.

Her: (logically) OH RIGHT! JUST WAIT TIL THOSE SWIFT BOAT VETERANS GET A HOLD OF HIM.

Me: Yeah, and I can't wait until the "documentary" on Bush's Vietnam record. Oh, yeah, I forgot, there isn't one, because Georgie was too busy snorting coke.

Her: MICHELE! *more nonsense said emphatically and illogically at 7 decibels higher than normal*

Me: *beeeeeeeeeeep* *beeeeeeeeeeeeeep* (with the buttons of the phone, drowning out her talking, which I do to my parents to let them know I don't approve of what they've said or that they need to stop talking now)

Her: You're just a naive fool.

Me: I know you are but what am I?

Her: A naive fool.

Me: I know you are but what am I?

Her: A nai....

Me: Ma *kerrrrrrk* It 'ooks 'ike *kerrrrk* 'osing recept *kerrrrrrk* 'ove *kerrrrk* 'ater. *kerrr* *CLICK*

So I'll keep you posted about Round Two: The Backlash as soon as it goes down.

So, what else? Let's see. Oh yeah, Matt saw this picture of Britney Spears and said, "Christ on a bike. Girl has gone from American Pie ... to ummm, hair pie ... to pizza pie!" I enjoyed that immensely.

The other thing I took great pleasure in was in this Charlotte home mag I was browsing through in a doctor's office. It was talking about decorating styles and I came to this paragraph:

If you are a casual, put your feet up on the coffee table kind of person, a formal room might not be your best decorating choice. Perhaps a comfy casual or ecletic style may be best. On the other hand, if you're like me, and love having your friends over for Saturday afternoon tea and lady lunches, furniture that you sink into will making dining and sipping tea quite difficult.

Lady Lunches? No, really. The woman who wrote that? Homegad, I'd like to give her my fist in the puss-puss during Saturday afternoon tea. How condescendingly uptight she must be. Do you think she's ever given anyone a blowjob? I'm just curious. But Lady Lunches pleases me in its utter ridiculese. I'd settle for just being a Lady, and then I'll work on the lunches part. Nahhh, too much work.

Speaking of lunches, and the last thing I'll walt on about that has brought me joy of late, is Wasabi Mustard. I get in a rut with food where I just eat one thing continuously until I loathe it. I once ate Raisin Bran for breakfast, lunch and dinner in college for three months. And while my shits were exceptional, the smell of RB now kinda makes me queasy. Anyway, my current obsession is The Wasabi Mustard. Yesterday for my Lady Lunch, I made a turkey and provolone sandwich with cucumbers on pumpernickel bread lathered with the Wasabi Mustard and a side of cold red seedless grapes? Sweet Sassy Molassey, that was a veritable party in my mouth. And not in the usual way, either. My point, get it. When your next bottle of Gulden's Spicy runs out? You won't be disappointed.

All righty then. My work here is done.