boo who?

don't cry it's only a joke.

so what I want to spend a day with the voice of that villain in the batman movie, the one with the crazy headgear strapped to his face. 

sometimes I get the urge to change things up a bit. 

I've never been one for moderation though.  i'm kind of an all-or-nothing gal.

so what I want to walk a catwalk with a pet potbellied pig on a leash.  a blue paisley leash.

a pig-toting, masked villainess with a kooky voice probably wouldn't have gotten yelled at by an old lady in the grocery store today. 

but that's not my only shake 'em up motivation.  while avoiding old lady anger would be clutch in my daily activities, it would be more rewarding if I wasn't wound up so tight that I felt the need to yell back at old ladies.

i'm not sure if this is holiday stress, or two kids one mommy stress, or my dog's ear skin collects in flakey piles on my couch stress, or i'm a professional chef and I ate a pretzel and Hershey's kisses for dinner stress.

anyone want a dog?

I need my mojo back.  I've been out of practice with writing.  don't judge my first dip back in the bloggy pool.  I never was one for a grand (re-)entrance. 

i'm open to suggestions on what to do with a blog that i pretty much ignore but like the name too much to really ever give up...

hi blogland, happy new year and all that.  i kind of miss you, but then i get busy again and forget about you for a while.  but then i find myself thinking about bloggy folk in my real life and it makes me want to pop in and say hi again.  it's a vicious cycle.

i have a few gems that i've been saving up in case i ever wanted to write a cohesive post any time soon, but i don't think that's going to happen.  well, at least not this week anyway.  so instead maybe i'll share them in list form, because let's be real, who doesn't love a good list?

ok, so here it goes:

things related to my recent move back to my hometown-

1.  if you live in a really scary part of town, it's ok to walk your big ass rottweiler on an orange extension cord and pretend it's a leash.

2.  if you have a motorized wheelchair/rascal or equivalent type of ride, and you obey the same traffic rules as a motor vehicle, it's ok to drive in the road as opposed to the sidewalk like the rest of the wheelchair-bound citizens of this town.

3.  a trip to home depot with your spouse does not count as a date when you bring a wiggly toddler, but if you bring snacks and drinks in your bag like you're going to the movies it comes really, really close.

4.  the days of running errands in pajamas are long gone.  you will inevitably run into no less than three people from your past every time you set foot outside your house, requiring real grown-up clothes at all times lest you become the loser who just moved back into town and can't get her shit together. 


things related to work-

1.  getting bullied by a kosher caterer who talks to you like you're not even good enough to be the shit on his shoe is a valid reason for waving a knife around in a kitchen full of people. 

2.  please, please take my word for it, don't EVER eat or drink anything at the roseland ballroom in nyc unless it comes in a sealed bottle or package that you open yourself.  that means no ice in your drink either.  semi-related, robert de niro must have a stomach of steel.

3.  can there be a season of project runway where all the designers make fashionable chefwear and then they give it all to me?  i'm all set with the pants that come all the way up to the bottom of my bra and the polyester jackets that stay square no matter how long i wear them. 


and that's all the original thoughts i have at this time.  stayed tuned for some more of the same at some point this year.  


spanks!!  (yes, i am single-handedly trying to bring back spanks to replace thanks)

guess what i'm gonna be for halloween!!

a big fat fattie that's what.

i can't stop eating halloween candy.

or rather, my two year old is making it really hard for me to just enjoy a casual piece of candy without having to hear her squeal 'CHOCO PEAS!!!' incessantly so i end up binging as soon as her little head hits the pillow every night.

i might need an intervention, but not the weird kind where people just write letters and read them and cry and make ugly snot faces.

i want the kind of intervention where i get to bathe in enormous mounds of candy and oompa loompas come and sing to me about getting a bellyache and then i wake up the next day and i don't want candy anymore and i'm magically skinny again.

or would that be hypnosis?  whatever, make it happen.  i love oompas.


on another note, i'm thinking about bringing my monster to a pending craigslist exchange.  i can't decide if that makes me a) super paranoid, no one is going to rob me for $50 over a used carseat, or b) wise and well-prepared, internet people are weird.

if nothing else, giving monster a chance to think he's protecting me by barking really loudly at a stranger might just make him feel a little better.  he's been having some anxiety about the upcoming move which has manifested in a strange habit of chewing the fur off of his hips.  

my poor smelly mutt, maybe i should give him some candy too....  

just another day at the office...

i couldn't possibly write anything funny enough to accompany this video:

they're called boundries people, use them

do you start random personal conversations with people you barely know? 

i don't, but i'm also kind of out of touch and i'm not sure which side of normal i fall on this one.

as a general rule, i save my detailed personal info for people that are routinely updated on my life.  but what do i know, maybe i need a lesson in socialization skills.  maybe i'm contributing to the self-centered mindset that many people claim is taking over our population.  

maybe my need to protect my small and insignificant matters is seen as an unwillingness to participate in regular society.  who knows. 

what i do know is that my neighbor ambushed me in the laundry room yesterday as i had my head in the washing machine to warble in an oddly undulating squeak "i just found out my sister-in-law has breast cancer."

and i should be clear, i don't know this woman's name or much about her other than what you can infer from seeing someone walk to their car once in a while.   

this gut punch of a conversation starter had an exquisite effect of unfolding emotions on me.  first there was anxiety, 'does this crazy lady really want me to do this with her?  talk about someone elses boobs and cancer?!'

next there was sympathy, 'ugh, this poor lady probably has no one else in her life to talk to about this and it must really be bothering her.'

there was also a distinct sense of insensitivity, 'how can i be polite and at the same time get the hell out of here to catch that 12:46 train this afternoon?'

as i tried to find the appropriate tone for my 'gosh i'm sorry' and 'oh' and 'uh-huh' responses, she began talking about sharing this news with her church congregation and how she was asking for prayers.

this ignited yet another intense emotion for me which i almost can't even name.  being raised as a (barely) practicing jew, i have never in my life felt comfortable with churches.  even the mention of activities inside churches are enough to make me squeamish to the point where i want to shed the conversation like you would wet clothes. 

as her monologue drew to a close, i felt the most overwhelming sense of relief. 

unfortunately, that relief has not lasted.  i am still going back to that conversation in my head and asking myself 'was i wrong to not offer more genuine consolation?' or 'was she completely crossing a line by trying to incite my involvement in her emotional well-being?'

truthfully, i cannot imagine reacting any differently should this scenario occur again tomorrow.  call me the crazy one, but that is exactly why i would never put a stranger in a position like that. 

i'm only blogging because i ran out of packing tape

on a scale of one to ten, ten being the most unusual, how weird is it to show up to work on a steamy summer night in brooklyn only to be told your parking spot is now reserved for the penguin guard?

i gave it about a six. 

i mean, it is important that the forty or so penguins residing in the walk-in refrigerator be well protected with their own security detail from vandals and other such types who might wish to cause them harm or distress.

i can't begrudge them that. 

it also helps that the past few months have been so insanely busy that i have become so much more easy-going than i ever thought was possible.  i think it suits me well. 

i've found life is easier for me if i roll with changes instead of attempting to enforce my rigid plans to achieve a desired outcome. 

now, don't get me wrong, i think i might have a mental breakdown if i couldn't make lists anymore.  but letting smaller things go, in general, has been quite exhilirating.  it's almost like giving myself a reprieve from having to be "on" all the time. 

and right now, things couldn't be better for me.  b and i bought our first house in the burbs, i got a promotion at work and now get to be the head chef of my own events, and i have a beautiful and healthy daughter who is about to turn two years old.  

so really, mr. penguin guard, you enjoy that conviently close-to-the-building parking spot and i'll walk a few extra feet.  i really don't want to have anything to do with weird birds who don't fly and need to be refrigerated. 

multiple choice monday

what does the crazy lady in your neighborhood look like? 

in my neighborhood she's about five foot three and pushing a solid two hundred. 

she has short hair that she somehow manages to wrap around tiny curlers, which i wasn't even sure people still used anymore. 

she wears her 'house shoes' outside and hangs out by the dumpster.

oh yeah, and she talks to herself almost as much as she converses with the neatly trimmed row of hedges that line the dumpster.

her constant proximity to the dumpster in and of itself is relatively harmless, or so i thought up until this morning. 

on my way to work i threw out a bag of garbage before getting into my car.  crazy slipper-wearing lady paused mid-rant to stare me down and say in a whisper just barely audible from my supposedly safe distance of fifteen feet, 'i'm watching you i'm watching you i'm watching you.'

as i thought to myself 'she's not really that crazy, she's just bored, or lonely, or waiting for someone to come pick her up, she's too lumpy to be dangerous, etc., etc.' i reached the oasis of shelter that is my car. 

putting the key in the ignition and turning it to hear the engine start with a quiet rumble, buckling the seatbelt, and settling into the driver's seat, i allowed the familiarity to almost shake the weirdness of the previous ten seconds away.

reversing out of my parking spot and craning my neck around to the left to make sure i wasn't going to hit any small animals or children, i was startled by what i saw in my driver's side mirror.

crazy psycho bitch was staring directly at me through the mirror.  her eyes burned with what at first i thought was anger, and then realized was more akin to the consuming desire with which a drug addict might stare down a pile of glorious dope right before pouncing upon it. 

she saw that i was leaving the area and bolted toward the dumpster, reached in, and appeared to be going through the very bag of garbage i had just thrown in the dumpster.

the view in my rear mirror as i pulled away was of her squat legs straining to propel her upper body over the lip of the dumpster. 

yes, really.

so now, the big question is what the fuckity fuck is my next move?

is it:

a- starve my monster for three days and lay in wait with him behind the dumpster and let him loose to feast on her lard ass

b- take pictures of her and draw satanic things on them and write scary messages to her and throw it all out in the dumpster when i know she's lurking

c- white bishop to black queen

d- go invade her territory and do my own version of crazy that may or may not include a sombrero in hopes of scaring her away long enough to buy an industrial wood chipper for all future garbage headed to the dumpster


please, help me before it's too late...