what is it with seafood?
Greetings gentle readers!
I’ve got another mayor archive brewing for you, but I’m going to save it for another day when what little sleep I got wasn’t interrupted by various things that weren’t my teething daughter (hint: don’t get me started).
On the subject of my (six at one time) teething daughter, my shark-like shortie is doing ‘better’, (and by ‘better’ I mean I’m able to say, pry myself away long enough to, like, go to the bathroom, or even write a blog!) But mainly for several days I’ve been holding and snuggling my lil cuddle lumpkin for the majority of the day and evening, when every teething tool has been utilised and she still looks at me with those big weepy blue eyes and her lil lip curled down as if to say “DO something already!”
And I feel helpless like Jerry Macguire……”Help ME…..help YOU!” I know, I know, rite of passage and all that. And I’ve heard from many of you that this many teeth at once isn’t rare by any stretch. (and reminded by one of you that she won’t remember this anyway)
Still. The GUILT! It’s immense.
Oh and also there’s been this unfortunate side effect of not being able to say, turn my neck or use my shoulders much since I’m so friggin stiff from all the cuddling. Small price to pay, considering, but I keep forgetting and trying to turn to look at someone speaking to me and going……’Ah! Oh. Eek’ etc.
I do what I have to do to avoid what I’ve dubbed the Cowardly Lion crying. You know it’s past the point of no return when she goes silent and open-mouthed…followed by the kinds of sounds I always associate with…well, the Cowardly Lion. You mommies out there know what I’m talking about.
My poor baaaaayyyybeeeee!!!
Ok. I’m done.
Time again for another installment of:
Random Thoughts From a Sleep-Deprived Brain
*What is it with seafood? Why are there so many comparisons to creatures from the sea?
Out of sorts? You’re crabby.
Sunburned? You’re a lobster.
Happy as a clam.
Slow as a snail.
Suspicious? Something’s fishy.
Good at pool or cards? You’re a shark.
Shifty and untrustworthy? Slippery as an eel.
Fit? Well-musseled.
(ok, I made that last one up.)
But seriously…what gives? Who comes up with these things? And how do they catch on?
A serious lifetime goal I’ve made for myself is to come up with a new cliche. I’m totally serious. I want to invent a new phrase that generations afterward will utter. Surely it’s even more possible in this electronic age….why, I’ll bet if I came up with the right cliche, it would spread faster than you could say ‘Leave Britney Alone!’
* I’ve never ordered pizza online. I see it advertised more and more, and one would think it would be the easiest thing in the world to make a few extra clicks while banging away on the internet (perhaps I could have phrased that better) and order oneself a pizza. I dunno….when I think about it I guess I’m just not that optimistic. Something about needing to have an actual human voice on other end saying ‘Thank you for calling Pizza Time, can you hold please?’ and then proceeding to mess up my order. It’s, ya know, personal.
*Goldfish crackers……we all love ’em! At least I think we do. I know I do, and I don’t think I’ve met anyone who doesn’t like at least one flavor of them, though it’s fair to say that this is not a standard question I ask most people. ‘Hi, do you like Goldfish crackers? Are you a fan of any and all Pepperidge Farm delights?’
But I digress. These whizzes now came up with a new catchphrase to sell more of their product “Goldfish: the snack that smiles back!”
Is this *really* a selling point? I mean, I’m still trying to get over my closet addiction to sour patch kids. Sure, they’re tasty, but why don’t they just call them sour patch children if they’re going to get all creepy about it? They should have drawn the line at Gummi Worms. I’m just sayin.
“The snack that smiles back?”
Call me crazy, but some folks don’t *like* that.
I’ll pass, thanks. (they are dang tasty, though)
and finally…..
* As some of you may know, in my previous incarnation I was living the dream as a retail manager of a large bookstore chain. I’ve been called a ‘book whore’ by a previous roomie, who insisted I’ll ‘read anything.’ (which is patently untrue. I draw the line at romance. Those are brain cells I won’t get back. All you romance fans out there, the jig is up. Guys have figured out that we’re no better than they are and it’s just female porn. They browse them just as much these days. Just a little FYI)
(also said roomie casting aspersions reads nothing but romance. But I digress again!)
Wow. I have no idea where I was going with this. Oh! Yes. As a book whore, I love books. My favorite genres are fiction, humor (duh) and biography. (I love memoirs, even when they turn out to be untrue *cough*JamesFrey*cough*)
I’m also always curious to see what others are reading. I’ve been known to get myself into (what would be to anyone else) embarrassing situations in an effort to contort myself into odd positions to determine what another person may be perusing.
(say, causing a bit of a logjam in the aisle of a plane trying to slow down so I can crane my neck juuuuuust a bit more……hey, is that the new……? Or in waiting rooms of doctor’s offices, which for some reason isn’t a popular place to have strangers gawping at you. Easy enough fix, though…I can just point to said tome and make the universal gesture for ‘may I see what you’re reading?’ 9 times out of 10 it works. The other times, well, thankfully looks aren’t lethal. And people need to loosen up anyway. Seriously. What’s your glitch that you don’t want to share what you have clearly visible in your hand?!) (again, prolly could have phrased that a bit better) 😛
(most people like to play along, though, and even offer a quick hand-gesture review of said book. Yay, nay, or meh)
(but even if I get a yay! I think ‘well, I don’t know this person, or her taste, so it may very well suck anyway.’ Then I remember I’m a book whore and I’ll read it anyway.)
So. To recap.
Me. Book whore. Compulsive need to see what others are reading. Which brings me to the logical endpoint of:
THE IKEA CATALOGUE
(You may or may not recall that I love this store, but hate hate HATE the layout of it. Which is irrelevant when browsing the catalogue)
What’s *not* irrelevant, to a dork like me, is that more pages than not tend to have scores of bookshelves, full to the brim, and nary a visible title.
Now I’m reasonably certain, gentle readers, that I’m the only person on earth that this would bother. I’m fine with that. Really. I’m nothing if not unique in my dorkitude. It’s cool.
So I may be the only one who can fully appreciate what I’m about to impart to you……the excitement and the disappointment. You see, I finally found a page that had a title that was actually visible. I contorted the page around until I could read the elusive letters……finally! a book title that will put my finger on the literary pulse of the Ikea catalogue!
Oh, I was so excited!!
……until I finally made out each individual letter. “Wow” I thought to myself….”this is a really long word!”
That’s because the word was this: (and I quote)
FLIPPERSPELAREN
Of course. Swedish company. Swedish books with Swedish titles. Makes perfect sense, when you think about it.
I hadn’t, though. So that was easily several years’ worth of expectations dashed in one fell swoop.
FLIPPERSPELAREN, indeed.
Thanks for reading! (if anyone can translate this word for me, by all means feel free. Closest guess I could ascertain from Google would be ‘book’, which would disappoint me even further, but in a humorous, par-for-the-course kind of way)
Huzzah!
(p.s the book I’m currently reading is friggin hilarious and written by Al Gore’s daughter, whom I never knew is really funny and wrote for SNL and such. Worth the read…especially to a dork like me who can picture all-to-easily the events that befall the protagonist, befalling myself. And I’m not even half done. :P)
Edit: I have since been informed that I am a dumbass. This is not news. However, the reason given this time is that most catalogues don’t even use ‘real’ books in their advertising, but rather plasticated groups of books to make the shelves appear full. Super. All that hopeful optimism for nothing. Next you’ll be telling me there’s no Easter Bunny!! *grumble*