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I spy with my little eye … #TuesdayTantrum

Posted in Apartment life, Parenting, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on March 16, 2021| 1 Comment »

Dear People With Normal Human Eyes,

Remember I said I needed glasses almost all the time?

Well, I don’t need glasses to see certain things.

For those things, I’m apparently the ONLY one who can see them.

It’s like my mom superpower.

Here are some of the things only I can see:

Ramen in the sink.

Remains of ramen in a pot.

A measuring cup that won’t get clean.

That there’s no cheese in this container.

The green light on the washer indicating clothes are done.

That the recycling bin is full.

I should feel powerful with all this magical sight.

But I actually feel drained.

Tell me: Can you see these things with your normal human eyes? Or am I really that special?

Yours truly,
Hawkeye

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One year = paper gift, so I recommend WALKING PAPERS #ThursdayThoughts

Posted in Apartment life, Parenting, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 11, 2021| 2 Comments »

At least my footwear is fancy.

Dear COVID-19,

We’ve been living with you for about a year. You’re a terrible roommate. You’ve affected the health of 115 million people, killing 2.56 million of us.

You’ve negatively affected almost everyone’s mental health. (I’d like to meet someone who has not been affected.)

I know you’ve affected mine. I’m an extrovert who likes to travel, so …

Here is the truth:

I am not an indoor cat.

I never wanted to be a housewife.

I did not choose to be a stay-at-home mom.

I think it is important to be honest about the situation you’ve put us in. We all tend to put a brave face on things, but let’s not.

Let’s pull back the curtain to see the man behind it.

Things I’ve normalized that I do not want to have normalized:

  • Doing laundry on my lunch break.
  • Wearing glasses almost always because of all the screen time I’ve had this year.
  • Putting on eye makeup if going out, but not lipstick.
  • Putting on lipstick if staying in, but not eye makeup. (No one can tell behind the glasses from Point 2.)
  • Wearing pants without zippers.
  • Accepting slippers as my primary footwear.
  • Understanding that I will have a harder time finding energy on cloudy days.
  • Recognizing that a change of scenery means answering emails from the kitchen instead of the living room.
  • Lamenting the lack of privacy. (High school from home for the boys = I’m never alone!)
  • Having to look at my phone to figure out what day it is.
  • Sitting all day.
  • Not seeing people in human form.

These are small issues compared to loss of life noted above, but they are still issues.

The bottom line: It’s not fun to have you around.

It’s time for you to leave.

As they say in the South, “Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya.”

Sincerely,
Beth (and everyone else in the world)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I’ll take ‘What’s in the Bag?’ for $100 #SundayShamefulness

Posted in Apartment life, Cultural differences, tagged , , , , , , , , on February 14, 2021| 6 Comments »

Dear “Br” and Mariah,

Congratulations!

You win the award for Biggest Kitchen Disaster.

We’ve hosted loads of people in the condo we list on Airbnb. There have been many messy guests.

You take the cake.

Except you didn’t. You left it behind along with other half-eaten food, a sink full of dirty, greasy dishes, and a bag of liquid.

Seriously.

What’s in that bag? Shudder.

It’s like you deliberately used every dish, pot, pan, glass and utensil in the place. And went through three rolls of paper towels.

You were there for less than 36 hours!

It took me an hour to wash everything — a fact I won’t soon forget.

I hope you enjoyed your Valentine’s Day. I can guarantee it will be the only one you spend in our place.

Host you again? HELL NO.

Sincerely,
Beth

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Ch-ch-ch-CHIA! (Makes a great gift!)* #WeedyWednesday

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , , , , on January 26, 2021| Leave a Comment »

Dear Family,

Thanks for one particular Christmas gift:

I’ve never had a Chia Pet (though I always wanted one).

I love that my first one is a Chia Child.

But actually, as we know, his name really is Grogu Craig.**

Despite the fact that I read and followed the instructions — and even bought a plant mister — I could not get the damn seeds to sprout and keep growing.

I tried and failed twice.

I was determined that the third time would be the charm, so I soaked Craig a little longer — much to your dismay.

Look. Listen. It had to be done.

And you know what? It worked.

I’m disappointed that the seeds I put on his head didn’t sprout.

So y’all can get off my back.

I did what needed to be done. If you don’t have the stomach for it, look away.

But seriously, thanks for the gift that keeps on giving.

Love,
The Gardener

*Remember this commercial?

**We thought it would be hilarious if the Star Wars folks would have named him a regular dude name like Kevin. Or Craig.

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Best-laid plans and all that #2020 #2021 #resolutionsresults

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 1, 2021| 2 Comments »

Dear 2021,

I hope you are better than 2020. (2020 can suck it.)

I’m not one for resolutions. I usually declare things I won’t do or won’t give up. Just to be contrary. (Look. Listen. Give me this one rebellious thing. That’s about the only one!)

For kicks, I decided to look back at last year’s list.

Here are the things I declared I would not do, along with the result:

  • Keep makeup I don’t wear. Coral lipstick is not for pale people like me, and frosty pink is for preteens. Success: I ditched so much crap this year.
  • Retain books on my Kindle I won’t read. “A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again: Essays and Arguments” by David Foster Wallace is a supposedly fun read that is not. Byeeee! Success: I purged my Kindle and did not add any books. Of course, I didn’t read a single book either.
  • Put up with less than I need/deserve/worked for, etc. I am not a “Welcome!” mat. Mixed progress: I occasionally washed other people’s dishes and clothes, but I got better about calmly explaining what was bothering me.
  • Save money. Yeah, I know I should, but let’s be honest: I won’t. Success: I didn’t.
  • Stay home. I want to say “absof–kinlutely” to adventures near and far. Dream scenario: I get paid to write about it. Fail: I think we all know what happened this year.
  • Continue procrastinating on my book. This is the year I finish it, write the proposal, and find an agent. If E.L. James can become rich and famous off her trash Twilight fan fiction work, so can I. Fail: I did absolutely no work on it. Lack of motivation, thy name is COVID-19.
  • Lose more than just five more pounds. I’m calling that my “wine cushion.” Success: I found a few pounds more of me. Pandemic pounds FTW!
  • Stay in this place with the small kitchen. When it’s a pain to make things as fairly easy as Scotch eggs, it’s time to upgrade. Success: We moved to a larger place with a slightly larger kitchen.
  • Ignore show suggestions from certain like-minded people. I resisted watching “Killing Eve.” I was stupid. Success: I’m even taking suggestions from randos on Twitter. I’ve got some issues with “Bridgerton.” Who wants to chat about it with me?
  • Let people try to make me feel even slightly embarrassed about my love of bad taxidermy. Those uptight people can shove it. My obsession is Hando approved. Success: I let my freak flag fly this year to positive results.
  • Vote for Trump. Duh. Success: Duh.
  • Stop writing blog posts at least twice a week. I’ve been keeping this pace since April, so I’m pretty proud of myself. Success-ish: I was doing well until the holidays. I blame Netflix. 

In 2021, I will not:

  • Take for granted the ability to hug friends, see a movie in a theater, see live music, eat in a restaurant, travel, go out without a mask, work out at the gym, etc.
  • Take for granted physical mobility. (This was the year I broke my ankle and damaged my rotator cuff. So that’s been fun.)
  • Lament a packed schedule of in-person meetings.
  • Ever get off political mailing lists, apparently.
  • Be able to wear real shoes again without dealing with discomfort. (I wore flip flops for six months straight.)
  • Stop calling out people for being stupid.
  • Change my Alexa voice from Samuel L. Jackson. Having him curse at me when I ask him to set a timer gives me LIFE!

I reserve the right to add to this list.

Hoping for the best,
Beth

 

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My annual letter to Santa #Christmas2020 #ThursdayThoughts

Posted in Apartment life, Parenting, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 24, 2020| 3 Comments »

Dear Santa:

Any other year, this SNL sketch really would have resonated with me.

But this year is different. All my whining bitching complaining gentle nudging finally paid off.

Eddie and the boys did something great for Mother’s Day AND my birthday.

Not only did I get a balloon and presents to open (this is a big deal), but Eddie also apparently was paying attention when I said this to Gideon:

When you get further along in your guitar lessons, I’ll start playing drums again. We’ll start a band.

Eddie got me a drum kit for my birthday.

He didn’t really knew how to set it up, but BY GOD HE TRIED!

😳

It’s great, but we live in an apartment. His rationale was that if the leaf blower guy can do his thing every day, so can I.

Yeah, no.

Now I am looking for studio space.

Still, it’s a thoughtful, fun gift. Hella impractical, but appreciated.

This year, I feel certain my family will come through for me on good Christmas gifts. So I’m going to ask for more altruistic things:

  1. COVID vaccines for normal people. (Certainly not for asshat politicians who spent months denying COVID, organizing super-spreader events and not wearing masks.)
  2. The ability to travel freely again.
  3. A peaceful transition of power.
  4. Jail time for the guilty.
  5. Control of the Senate. (Side benefit: Mitch sidelined.)

I hope that this list isn’t too hard to finagle. If anyone can do it, you can.

Thanks, Santa.

Love always,
Beth

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Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones* #SundayStories #NoSundayStroll

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , , on October 11, 2020| 2 Comments »

Dear People Who See Me in Person,

Though there will be only a handful of you over the next couple of weeks, let me answer the inevitable questions now:

  1. Yes, I broke my ankle.
  2. No, it’s not a good story.

I wish I could say I broke it doing something exciting, like glacier hiking in Iceland, cliff diving in Bermuda or rappelling off the Empire State Building (if that could even be a thing).

But no.

I tripped on some uneven pavement and rolled my ankle.

I feel pretty, oh so pretty.

The ligament actually broke the tip off my fibula.

I broke the piggie who ate roast beef a couple of weeks ago. Same foot. My first two broken bones.

I guess if I’m going to damage myself, during a pandemic is as good a time as any. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.

This splint is my sexy new accessory for the next few weeks.

Dr. Peter said the bone will heal in about a month. I asked how long I should try to stay off my foot. He said:

Let pain be your guide.

Isn’t that true for so many things?

Anyway, I’ll be fine.

And also, it’s good to see you.
Beth

*Remember that song?

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Happy trails to you!* #SundayStories

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , , , , , on September 20, 2020| 5 Comments »

Dear Tony, Spike, Ulysses, Rolfe, Verna and friends,

I found out this week that you likely will be leaving me soon to go to Mexico.

That makes me sad, but I understand. You have places to go and other people to see.

I know I’ll see you in the spring.

I’ll miss you. I’ll leave the feeder up just in case anyone still around needs a snack. (Suddenly I’m thinking of that Motel 6 commercial.)

Thanks for visiting.

Your friend,
Beth

* Thanks to Dale Evans and Roy Rogers.

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“I can smell trouble right here in this apartment.” —Stella, “Rear Window” #SundayStories

Posted in Apartment life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 23, 2020| 2 Comments »

Dear People in the Condo Building:

I’m truly fascinated by your lives. Every time I go to our place to clean for a new guest or just hang out, there’s something going on.

It’s very “Rear Window.”

I’m here today because I have so much work to do, and I needed peace (read: time away from Dominic complaining about the Wi-Fi).

It’s a nice day, so I’m on the balcony. I’m worried about getting a contact high from the clouds of chronic. (New building name: Chronic Condo. Or THC Towers. Or High House.)

The last time I was here to get work done, I got to party with Cardi B, along with everyone else on their balconies.

One time, I was having a girls’ night with my friend Becky (with the good hair).

Some guys two floors down and two balconies over saw us.

Dude 1: Hey Ladies!
Dude 2: You with the hair!
Dude 3: We’ve got weed. Come on down!

Becky and I are middle-aged women. We are not going to party with random guys — in a pandemic, no less.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t weirdly flattered.

Anyway, thanks for providing plenty of entertainment.

Love,
Beth

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Wholesome prison blues #SundayStories

Posted in Apartment life, Parenting, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 19, 2020| 5 Comments »

Dear Prisoner No. 4, aka Gideon,

You know that saying, “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time?” Well, in this case, you really didn’t do the crime. You are innocent.

That still doesn’t mean we can set you free, Smooth Criminal. You are incarcerated until we all get our test results.

The family that tests together stays together.

You did get time out of your cell for the testing, but that was not a good time for any of us.

Prisoner No. 4 submits to testing.

We all suffered. Dominic claimed it was “nasal rape.”

You certainly haven’t lost your sense of humor.

On the way home, we had this conversation:

Me: When we get home, I have to go out to buy more wine as someone didn’t follow the list.
Daddy: I thought it was a “pick one” list instead of a “get all.” What if I bought a bunch of wine, and you got mad?
Me: It’s like you don’t even know me. I would never get mad at too much wine.
You: That’s something an alcoholic would say.

Laughter ensued.

In a way, I suspect you are loving captivity.

You don’t have to do your chores.

You can eat in your room.

Your brother isn’t able to harass you.

And we’ve sort of made a joke of it.

Anyway, you can rejoin society (i.e., us) in 3-5 days when we get (negative, we hope) test results back.

Love you despite your record,
Mama

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