suede vests with tassels are cool

Another rousing game of Grover’s Near and Far as it relates to matters of the heart… well, MY heart anyway. Near. Far. Near. Far. Oh? You want to see near again? I, Grover, will run up and show you near! Now far? OK. I’ll show you far, I will run way back here. Near again? OH BOY. GROVER TIRED. Pant. Pant.

Here is what I’m having trouble remembering: did Grover have his cape on for that demonstration?

Here is what I think of hot apple cider: YUM!

Yesterday afternoon was spent watching M try on ill fitting sweaters, red suede vests with tassels and the occasional Christmas plaid blazer with gold buttons. M and his sneaky siblings are on their way to pulling off a holiday caper! While in The Mistake On The Lake this weekend, they are making what is sure to become a historic trip to the local Wal-Mart for some holiday photos as gifts for their parents this Christmas. The caper part: they are dressing up like uber-nerds in holiday flair with greased down hair and creepy smiles. We struck out at the thrift stores and at the mall and as the time clock ticked down, the responsibility of dressing M rested on me, and me alone. You can’t imagine the pressure!

THE CRUSHING PRESSURE!!

I came through though. It’s glorious! Imagine this: pine green polyester pants circa 1976, a bright green John Deer button up with bright yellow stitching and an embroidered logo on the collar, and the topper, I made him a t-shirt that has a big red felt bow hot glued to the front so he looks like a little present. OH and there are red and white wrist bands and a matching headband to finish it off too. AWWWW. It’s fucking perfect and he loves it. Hooray for M! Hooray for me! Hooray for Ragstock! And hooray for silly ideas that involve felt and hot glue!

My reaction to seeing M in his uber-nerd Christmas photo outfit: SUPER FANTASTICO!

Other names for Cleveland that are funny: Heaveland and The Armpit Of The United States.

You wanna hear something HORRIBLE? I had a fucking panic attack! Two Thursday nights ago. Icky! Super icky!! Super duper icky!!!

Here was my first thought upon commencement of the panic attack: OH MY GOD, I’VE TURNED INTO A GIRL WHO HAS PANIC ATTACKS.

I am not happy about it. I use to be all low maintenance and mellow. I use to be able to roll with the punches and not sweat the small stuff and any other laid back metaphor you’d care to insert here. USE TO BE. Now, I have panic attacks. E-gads. What’s next? A hysterical pregnancy? I’ll faint at the supermarket? I need to start using more hair spray? Lord help me.

This might help! I made a magic wand with the 4 year old wanna-be superhero I baby-sit for. It is a stick with colored paper stars strung on ribbon and tied to one end, the supposed magic end, obviously. So far, it hasn’t worked. But I’ll keep trying.

I bought a cool t-shirt yesterday. It was a bit of a splurge. Here is what it says: You say tomato… I say fuck you. I have it on, under a cowgirl shirt with snazzy snaps and stitched up western pockets. My new favorite outfit. And no. You can’t see the fuck you part, but I like knowing it’s there. Tee hee.

It’s gonna be weird not having M around for FOUR WHOLE DAYS! A little preview of my possible life in a few weeks, except instead of four days it’ll be for-fucking-ever. Not sure how I feel about that and when I say that it means I know exactly how I feel about it and I don’t like it one little bit.

I would ask my 8-ball what's going to happen, but it’s too scary. I WILL ask it if my golden fried tofu in delicious pink sauce will be here soon, though.

All signs point to YES.