splorg

I'm doing what we were told NEVER to do in my college days (aka two years ago - Adult school = adult cool!) which is write directly into the blog template, as opposed to writing this in Word, finessing every syllable while I lick a pen nib, then copying and pasting like a boss (that's not cool anymore, is it?) into the back end, to then hit Publish then frantically scour the numbers every hour for who came and read what I wrote, like a sweaty crack fiend needing hits of validation to feel alive and talented.

Feeling itchy and frustrated as of late. Surprise - I don't have time anymore to do what I want to do. Boof*ckinghoo, I know right? I had a kid. The concept of free time laughs while it shits in your eyes and then throws sand deep into your weeping eye sockets. So, why am I suddenly so bursting with ideas? And projects? And slideshows? And at the exact same time so overdrawn in my patience account the bank has sent me to a collections agency (TERRIBLE SENTENCE). And then tonight I picked up the SLR camera my brother loaned us to take some non-iPhone pictures of Stella while she was gnawing on a book, and of course the LCD screen wasn't doing what I wanted it to, and then my iPhoto slideshows are being cranky bitches and not working and anytime I drop something, even one of her millions of teeny tiny washcloths, I want to junglebitch roar loud enough to shatter glass and twofist hammer down onto the kitchen counter until the bones in my hand are dust. I haven't had a period in 17 months - do you perchance think that might be the culprit?

We saw Bridesmaids on Saturday afternoon. Despite some missed opportunities (the direction and soundtrack were uber chick-flick meh which they successfully avoided in the writing and performances, so pity that), it was very very funny. Kristen Wiig is wonderful. I'd love to go grocery shopping with her. Or something equally necessary but anti-scintillating that she would make fun/funny. My favourite scene involves a jordan almond. Amazing. Also amazing - the bridal shower party favours. A posse of us ate treats like movie popcorn and flat movie coke with ice shards and after all was said and done all my teeth had tiny plaque toques on them and it took everything I had in me to not openly scrape them with my fingernails. Gross, right? NOPE. I savour sh*t like that. My disgusting pores around my nose may be disgusting but once a month my blackheads and I have a date night where I hunker down in front of the bathroom mirror to "extract" with great gusto and satisfaction. Stella had a few minor baby acne spots when she was really little and it took every ounce of willpower I had in me to not put her in a gentle headlock with some kleenex and astringent and POPPOPPOP! 

I got so spoiled on Mother's Day that it felt exactly right. Not to be all braggy, but when you have a kid, if you do it right, your life is sucked right out of you. You come last and you make that work. Nuv made me feel like every hour of sleep lost, every moment sing-songed, every shit drenched diaper changed was made completely null and void, tit for tatted. I had a simply magical day so full of love and appreciation and loveliness. It was about as perfect as 24 hours can attempt to be.

I now have about an hour and a half before Stella wakes up and needs me. Despite all the other shit I need to do, I picked up and started a book last week. A gift I'd specially requested for Christmas - The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters. Reading something not on my little phone screen has been such a treat. It's like I'm wearing fancy gloves and cranking music out through the ivory speakers of a gramophone. Every word is like a little drop of sweet tea on my brain's tongue and I'm only a few chapters in. I do love me some Internet, but f*ck yeah books!