You'll notice the time-to-post. I'm up with a combination of afflictions--a shit-awful* cold/cough/laryngitis and the time change. Whose stupid idea was it to change the time, anyway? Everybody bitches about how it gets so daaarrrk so eeaarrly these daaaays. Well, fuckin A, winter's coming, asswipe. Go live on the Equator if you want everything the same all the time. The rest of us can wait in peace for our snow.
This seems to be the day, 1 November 2005, that all the snot in my body made the collective decision to move on with its life and find some other unsuspecting sap to crash on for awhile, likely one of my kids or the poor husband. He said the right thing as I got up, roughly a half-hour ago, "Sorry, hon."
Right, he is. I hakked a lung until midnight and picked back up my new favorite passtime at about four. But at least he's faking some sympathy. I'm still working on a comeback for his later, inevitable comment, "I'm so tired today, you kept me up all night..."
Something besides, "You think YOU were kept up. What about ME?? I'm the SICK one!"
Halloween turnout was lack-luster. What is wrong with parents today? Just because it's a school night, candy gives you cavities, you're paranoid that the neighbor with which you have only a nodding acquaintanceship is a psycho killer, and you let your kid indulge so much the rest of the year that guilt seems to culminate on November 1 does NOT mean that you should make your kids attend that stupid church "fall festival" where the sweetest treat is the communion wine. Don't even get me started on the "Candy Witch" or the "Great Pumpkin" taking your poor kid's candy in exchange for a fucking toy. See last year's November 1st archived post if you want to read my views on that. I asked some older kid who was dressed like Satan or the Seven Black Riders or something where all the trick-or-treaters were.
"Oh that," he said. "Yeah. We devoured their souls."
It's time to start Christmas shopping. Yeah, you heard me. Get out the gold card, cuz it's coming. Our kids are getting a fucking snowmobile for Christmas. Get out! Yes, they are. A little kid-sized one that goes about 8 miles an hour. It's got a guv'ner on it so we can let it go faster when they get older. I haven't even see it yet. It's not half the size of our big one, nor does it go half the speed, but it sure as shit was half the price. Apparently they're a bit rare.
Did everybody go get their latest Star Wars PS2 game? My own geek ran right out last night after the kids had crashed off their sugar-high and collapsed into bed and got his very own copy. He is soooo excited. So is my son. He was a clone trooper for Halloween, sans mask.
I should think of something positive to say.
Eh, fuck that.
Video games just don't do it for me.
My little princess was a purple Care-Bear. She wore her costume for a solid twelve hours and her hair was a little, sweaty, flat mat of tangle underneath. She gave candy to one scary looking high school kid who patted on her head and said, "Aww. She's the cutest Care-Bear!" We figure the little darling has done 500-1000 bucks worth of damage lately to the house. Her coup d'etat**: pouring a bottle of water into our Bose CD/clock/radio. But she only kicked me once when I made her take off her costume, so that's an improvement over last year.
But back to me. I lost my voice on Saturday night so completely that I was the "smile and nod" contingent at the party we went to. Some guys were joking how I'd win the "sexiest" category for the contest--if there were one--and the only retort I had was to smile and stomp my foot. For future reference, three stromps means, "Thanks, but save it for your wife."
*an expression borrowed from Wegg. It seems somehow appropriate for today.
**coup d'é·tat ( P ) (k d-tä)
n. pl. coups d'état (k) or coup d'états (d-täz)
The sudden overthrow of a government by a group of small persons.***
*** ok, so I fudged the definition a bit. But you've got to admit it's pretty funny.