Saturday, November 29, 2008
Jake has taken all the children and gone to dinner with his family at the Old Spaghetti Factory (bless his saintly soul), and I am all alone. This solitude is a rare and exciting in itself. I was feeling a bit contrary, because my planned and plotted nap this afternoon had been foiled, and I thought, I can totally picture myself in a big tub, bubbles up to my eyeballs, holding one of those long-handled cigarrettes from ye olden days of back knows when.
The mental image was very pleasurable, in a dangerous, old Hollywood way. But it isn't what nice Mormon ladies do, right? Or really, what any smart ladies anywhere do, who don't want cancer or stinky hair. Which is like, everybody. Or ought to be, anyhow. Plus, how weird would I look, when the drug addiction had grown, and could not be contained to my bathtub, flicking tobacky ashes from that foot-long cig out the window of my blue Honda minivan? Totally not gamorous, right?
So instead, I got in the tub with a frisbee-sized chunk of pumpkin pie and about 2 cups of whipped cream (please be advised that whipped cream is not one of those things I enjoy more by the teaspoon, like excitement), and read The Geurnsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society until my toes grew raisiny, and the water tepid.
Also, don't hate me, but I didn't gain any weight in New York. Even though I really should have. If only due to the many, many blueberry scones I ate with clotted cream every morning. And that was just breakfast. Perhaps I have a tape worm?
So now, I've grown bit cocky, and feel like maybe I'm some sort of superhero who's rear is immune to pie and scones. Which is a slippery mental slope, I know, but what a fantastic superpower, eh? Luckily, I've almost eaten the pie up, so the leftovers problem will be moot, soon enough.
After I've polished off the jell-o salad, anyhow.
Thanksgiving is a lovely, lovely holiday.
More on New York, Coldplay, and our fabulous Utah visitors later. I'm going to go paint my fingernails and catch up on some TV.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Mom: No, I don't like the subway.
Kelly: You haven't been on a New York subway train since 1968.
Mom: So? People pee down there.
Kelly: What about you, Jen?
Jen: (Hailing a cab). (Cab pulls up to curb).
(We all slide into the cab.)
Kelly: Jen, are you ignoring me?
Kelly: Can't you hear me?
Jen: I got these special thick earmuffs, so I can't hear you talk about riding the subway.
Mom: I'm not feeling so good
Mom: Maybe I shouldn't have taken that packet of vitamins the size of my fist? My stomach is all gurgly.
Mom: I don't know if I am going to make it to August: Osage County. I'm quite uncomfortable.
Jen: Mom, you are a diabolical genius. You have totally been developing your alibi all day long! You totally have an out, at either intermission! I am totally stuck there.
Kelly: No, Mom is even smarter than that. She has cleverly refused to even hail a cab or pay a driver in all the years we've been coming to New York. If she needs to go back to the hotel, she'll neeed an escort.
Jen: Mom is a genius. Plus, my stomach is feeling a bit queer.
Jen: So, I read on your blog that Alyson is worried that you are a 50 year old pervert. And then you said you hoped that Alyson wasn't a pervy man, either. So I think you should tell Alyson that if she turns out to be a pervy man, she can go ahead and sit with us at the theater tomorrow, but she cannot go to dinner with us.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Pie and burger fast. To get ready for the Big Apple. Where we will see 4 lovely musicals and one stinker high-brow play, maybe.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
I could go on. But I need to go can 20 pounds of meat that will soon go bad, put away all the groceries I was out getting until 10:30 last night (but spent $25 and saved $150, so it was worth it, I think), go get Tommy out of the corner and interact with him a bit, and take a shower. I might need some In-n-out for lunch to sustain me. And then afterward, more pie.