Reason # 34 why I love my job.

Katie was worried this nicotine patch stuck to her shoe could absorb through the sole and make her addicted to nicotine. How cute is that? I told her not to touch it, peeled it off with plastic gloves, then threw it out (after I went in the back room and licked it a few times ... oh, Dark Mother, once again I suckle at your smoky teat!)

It's best the kids don't get hooked too early, and have to face the Beast at such tender age. The Beast we all come to know, that hungry demon that breathes on our neck in the night and claws us to succumb to the seductive power of the chemical world.

Oh, Monster!!!

I might be making too much of this; after all, she just had some trash stuck on her shoe. I'm OK.

Meditation: Errand Thoughts

It’s been pretty hard to meditate lately; my meditative moments come mostly in the form of loose thoughts on my drives in the car, to-from the realtor, lawyer, and mortgage office. Even so, I’ve been blessed with a few bursts of divine wisdom and self-knowledge, which I will now share with you. A confessional of sorts.

I have finally discovered the secret to dropping a few pounds. I’m hesitant to share it with you, because I am going to see if I can get a patent on it, and I don’t want you to steal my idea. But I feel that I can trust you, so I will tell you what I have discovered. The secret to losing weight is to ... EAT LESS FOOD. I know, mind-blowing, isn’t it? I’m surprised no one thought of it sooner.

Speaking of weight, I have a thing about carrying things. I have to carry everything all at once. A shopping-cartload of groceries gets carried into the house in one huge trip. I balance both sides, hanging bags upon bags off of each hand and wrist, then start walking. I crash into the rhododendron bush and the doorknob on the way. No matter, I am getting it all in one trip. People who ask if I need help are shunned with the magical phrase, “no thanks – I’m all balanced." I am delighted to see that my little 2.5-year-old niece has acquired the same gene, as she carries all of her toys from place to place. Only lesser people make multiple trips.

Lesser people also aren’t that efficient about laundry as I am. It is perfectly OK to wear the black tank top you slept in to work, as long as it is under another shirt.

I’m starting to worry that between that last comment, the DHF and DH discussion from the other day, and some other comments I have made, you people are starting to think I am gross. I’m really not, am I? I just dare to say the things that other people do, but don’t say. How many of you have sniffed a shirt you found on the floor to see if it is clean enough to wear? Huh? How about underwear? Yeah, you guys are gross. I am so much better than that. I would never sniff my own dirty laundry. Only other people’s, when I house-sit.

It’s like looking through other people’s medicine cabinets. Everyone acts all indignant and horrified at the prospect. I defy you to name one person who has never done that. How do you think I keep my Vicodin prescription up-to-date now that my name is on that statewide list the doctors all get? Yep, you betcha.

But I jest. Or do I?

Speaking of addictions, what about pasta? Yum. This past winter my comfort food of choice was the Boston Market Macaroni & Cheese. Nuke it, douse it in Tabasco sauce, and down the hatch. See paragraph 2 for how that worked out for me. But I must tell you that I think cooking pasta “al dente” is a bunch of bullshit made up by pretentious assholes at Conde Nast who just want you to think that you are an uncultured loser if you like your noodles soft. Al dente = chewy and strange. Cook the crap out of it, I say.

I’ve really been missing updating my iTunes since my stuff’s been living on the palette in White Plains; I keep listening to the same playlists over & over. That’s fine; three more weeks of the Dixie Chicks can’t be that bad for me. I have come to the conclusion --- or actually, finally developed the bravery to say --- I don’t like the Beatles, Rolling Stones, or Elvis (sorry BG). I’m really sorry. Will I go to hell for this?

Probably not; not to mention, I already have my ticket from all the times I got in people’s beds when I was babysitting their kids.

I knew that.

You Are an Espresso

At your best, you are: straight shooting, ambitious, and energetic. At your worst, you are: anxious and high strung. You drink coffee when: anytime you're not sleeping. Your caffeine addiction level: high

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

One Last Splash in the Surf

The final countdown to The Day has begun. Teachers & kids everywhere look for one last chance to celebrate the beautiful summer. I've packed my bags and I'm going to one of my favorite places on earth:

Gonna let my hair down and pull out all the stops! Gonna shout into the wind! Gonna ... lie on the beach and finish reading The Other Boleyn Girl, and take some naps.

By the way, if you ever find yourself in Cape Cod, Anchorage on the Cove is simply lovely. Perfect location, cute cottages, and a huge deck just the right size for a party.

I'm hoping that in my absence I can curb my blogging addiction a bit and maybe find some activities that actually involve getting outdoors; but I know I'll come back and see what wonderful things I missed. I hope that my devoted readership won't stray too far, and we can all reunite in a week or so.

While I'm away, feel free to poke around the tender-bud days of my blog, and study how it has grown into the behemoth that is today's 11.5!

And if that doesn't hold ya, maybe this will: