Here’s another installment of Christian and Jeanette texts. The first one can be seen here, and I apparently feel the need to show everyone how we interact via the phone.
In addition, I would like to once more praise the invention of texting, since there is nothing I hate more than talking on the phone. HATEY HATEY HATEY. I know hate’s a strong word. HATE.
Today I was easing down the aisles of my subpar grocery store, feeling a little languid from being sick, but happy to be food-shopping nonetheless.
I plucked up some items from the left, some others from the right, and then stopped dead in my tracks. Something I had never given a second thought to suddenly jumped out at me and demanded to be thrown into my cart and wheeled on outta there.
This thing was something I did not have, yet needed desperately. A veggie tray with lid. Up until now, I had always placed all my cut vegetables onto a dinner plate, with the dip in some little bowl or ramekin. After the veg-feasting, I would cover the plate with plastic wrap and shove it in the refrigerator on top of some month-old item that I was trying to ignore.
Everybody knows that the plate invariably tips over and sweet little vegetable bits roll around in the refrigerator like so many decapitated heads.
I didn’t internally debate the pros and cons of buying this thing, because it was total pros all the way, but I did have a very long mental conversation afterward about why it took me so long to buy one.
It sort of struck me that maybe I was living with the mindset of a 24 year old. 24 year olds don’t own things like that because they don’t have families to cut up vegetables for, and they only eat beer. Well, maybe they go to a lot of parties and bring loads of vegetables, so there’s that. OR! They like to eat dinners off of giant, separated plates so none of their foods will touch.
It’s not just veggie trays- I don’t own lots of things that real adults own. Only last year I got a deviled egg tray.
But I know why.
I suffer from Impermanent Establishment Disorder. I just made that up, but doesn’t it make me sound so interesting? It’s because I move around a lot and don’t feel settled.
Dig it: Moving = packing up loads of shit = more nervous breakdowns on top of those that moving already causes. So I don’t buy extra things. Dinner plates work for everything, and I’ve gotten used to that over the years.
As the checkout lady passed my veggie tray over the laser glass, it was as if I grew emotionally 15 years worth. I was to own a piece of kitchen equipment that, 1. served a specific purpose, and 2. was large and unwieldy.
There’s no turning back now, but what to buy next? Tell me your favorite piece of kitchen equipment, please.
Do you have weeks (or fortnights) where your life shifts- sort of? Not life-altering weeks like when you have a baby or move. Those times are just nuts, but you’re prepared for those. I’m talking about when several smallish things happen, that you aren’t necessarily prepared for, you don’t necessarily want to happen, and you’re left feeling shaken, uncomfortable, vulnerable.
Let me clarify. I’m not going to get into specifics, due to the personal nature of some things, but I will give you examples so that you can sink your brain into what I’m squawkin’ about.
Fictional example #1: Your mailman drops dead outside your house.
Fictional example #2: Your brother’s cat is diagnosed with – I don’t know- what’s a horrible thing cats can get? Catpox? Something terminal.
Fictional example #3: Your car totally ‘splodes. (You’re not in it, of course, but that’ll shake you to the core.)
Do you understand? I guess the exploding car part would be slightly traumatic, but I was sick of trying to come up with more examples and I needed 3.
Anyway, as you may have guessed, I’m there. Sort of coming out of it, really, feeling life calm down and get back to normal, which is lovely. But, as you also may have guessed, this sort of shit gets me thinking.
I was thinking about how, when I’m in this weirdness zone, aside from wanting to take to my bed and hide from the world, I tap strongly into feelings from my 8 year old self. I conjure up memories of cozying up on my bed and rearranging my sticker book for hours, reading a book up in a hidden tree in my side yard, eating Trix out the box on a big rock in my mom’s garden, making an elaborate fort in my closet.
So obviously these are the same feelings that today make me want to hide in bed now, but I think now I’d swap the Trix for cookies and the book for a book. What? Okay, I’ll swap the stickers for a classic romantic comedy and a glass of wine.
I would like to dedicate this post to my introversion and my obsession with childhood.
Now go on, and git on over and like my new Facebook fan page, Go on, git.
Do you know what’s weird? When you are driving to a sportastic game that one of your step kids is playing the sports in, and you are with your whole family, and everything is all normal, and then one of you spies a sign for a pet cemetery.
You don’t even need to exchange words with your husband, because it’s a given that you will be visiting that place after the sporting event has ceased.
All through sports-playing, you sit and dream about Stephen King, haunted, mangled cats, dogs with halos and such, and you can hardly stand the anticipation.
You are rewarded mightily, for when you arrive at your destination, you are met with trillions upon ass-loads of gravestones, the likes of which you could never have imagined in your wildest fever dreams.
We jumped out and walked out for a short time, sort of giggling at the incongruity of somber gravestones with cutesy pet names engraved on them.
I’ve always been a pet-lover, but not to this extent. Our dogs have been put down at vet offices and left to be disposed of tidily, fish and hamsters have been tucked into the garbage waiting to be whisked away. I have never felt this to be cold or callous, but as I feasted my eyes on stone after stone, I wondered about the people who spend lots of money on burials and gravestones for their pets, and I wondered if I loved my dogs less than I was supposed to.
I tend to sit somewhere in between people who dress their pets up for Halloween and people who leave their dogs outside all day. I would never, ever strike my dog, but I don’t coddle her. Okay, she sleeps on our bed. But she doesn’t get organic, grass-fed homemade food niblets.
I posted recently on my Facebook fan page that I thought the time was nigh for us to put down Farmer. I was met with lots of support and kind words, and it was so sweet.
In reality, I know that Farmer will NEVER die. From her mysterious beginnings to her days living on the streets on the south side of Chicago to her dozens of escapes from our house she has survived against all odds. She’s bounced back from what one vet thought was kidney failure, dodged cars, done battle with opossums, eaten more chocolate than most people could even handle, and currently has a tumor the size of a baby chick on her leg. We were told it was a form of cancer that claimed dogs within 6-8 weeks, but that was 2 years ago.
We watch it grow and joke about it. Farmer barely registers it, but the skin on it has stretched an alarming amount, so we all gasp when she notices it and gives it a little nibble with her front teeth.
Sometimes lately she goes through mysterious shaking spells- for hours- that lead us to the conclusion it is time to take her in to the vet one final time, but by the next morning she is rested and wants to play ball. We’ll watch her curiously for a few days and then feel relief we haven’t had to help the kids work through mourning yet.
We love her, but there will be no funeral for her. She’ll go the way of our other pets, dealt with by the vet. Partially because of the expense, but mostly because it’s hard to deal with death. We want to remember her- and let the kids remember her- as she is now; sleeping, farting, stealing our food, and trying to kill us by standing directly under foot.
We’ll talk about her fondly, remember her forever, and then, when it’s time, we’ll compare the new puppy’s antics to Farmer’s, and the whole family pet cycle will begin again.
I am a massive color snob. In fact, I’m taking great pride in teaching Beckett to differentiate between ‘turquoise’ and ‘teal’, and specify between light blue and dark blue. He’s digging it now, but it’ll probably get him punched some day.
I also manage to piss people off when I’m asked my favorite color, and the conversation usually goes something like this:
Person: “Whatchyer fave color?”
Me: “Grey. I mean Gray. But I like blue if it’s sort of a medium slate blue, but not on walls, because it’s too depressing. I like white walls because then everything else in the room can really POP and the room looks brighter. I love little shots of red within black and white decor. Red’s awesome- but not too much red. And I’m not a huge fan of red in clothes. Unless it’s like really cool men’s red pants, or kid clothing. Well, but I do like maroon/wine sort of colors to wear. I’m not too crazy about too much beige, but I love different neutrals together.
I used to loathe pink as a kid, but I like it a lot now if it’s the right shade. Neon colors suck and should be left to fish. Purple, meh. Greens! Greens are beautiful all together, and then there’s the classic green and yellow pairing for spring. But I guess if someone were to ask me my favorite color, I’d go with grey.”
Colourlovers.com is a site that will suck you in and barf you back out again 6 hours later in millions of different colors, so if you haven’t gone brain dead from Pinterest already today, head over to combine some colors and designs.
Here’s a color palette I made there when I was trying to figure out colors for my Craftwhack logo- apparently on December 27, 2011. Look, One person LOVED it!
Another cool thing is that if you use a color that no one else has used on there, you get to name it. Makes you realize how many color options are out there, because I have named 5 colors:
Don’t think for a minute that I like those blues with the rest of the colors. It’s too riotous!
That’s it. I’m bored with this topic, but I’ll leave you with some eye candy from my Pinterest board.
Images (clockwise from top left): 1. Paperdoll, 2. FEIST Concert Poster By Vahalla Studios, 3. Stephmodo.com, 4. Untitled (duo-collage) by Jean Arp, 5. Artist Moses Harris (1730 – ca. 1788), 6. Designed by Mind Design | Country: United Kingdom, 7. Dingaling Vintage on Etsy, 8. Design Seeds
