Category: Random

I don’t know where to file these posts.

I Think I’m Onto Something

About four months ago, I’m not sure why, I went off coffee and onto tea. I had weaned myself off caffeinated coffee anyway, and I don’t know, I guess I just thought tea would be healthier. Anti-oxidants and whatnot.

I was also trying to implement some paleo stuff into my diet, and though coffee and tea are equally paleo (or non-), coconut milk in coffee is NOT GOOD, while in tea it’s semi-palatable.

Anyway, I tried decaffeinated English Breakfast, and Earl Grey, and Chai, and various ginger teas—burny! Burny in my throat! (My friend, Evers, when I told her that, asked, “Meredith Baxter Burny?”)

Then for no particular reason this weekend, I bought some half-and-half and brewed a pot of coffee.

You know what’s better than tea with coconut milk?

Coffee. With half-and-half.

Remember When I Said I Was Handy?

Previously, on the Avid Bruxist blog, our heroine had bought a new gas-powered motor because she had allegedly killed two electric mowers in five years (we’ll get back to that part). She had hesitated at buying a machine with a pull-cord because pull-cords that, when pulled, don’t result in engines starting make her throw a goddamn rod.

Her brand new mower had revved up like a dream the first time, and she mowed to her heart’s content….

Then came the second time.

Goats and monkeys! Fuck if that thing wouldn’t start.

Now it’s possible that my shed is a little cluttered. And, when putting away the mower, I may or may not have struggled to find room. So it could be that I sort of picked up the back wheels and set them on top of the broken electric mower. And if I did all that, perhaps I left it like that—slanty—for a week or more.

When I took it out to start it, not only would the motor not crank but some semi-viscous liquid began dripping out of a part that didn’t look like it should have any semi-viscous liquid dripping out of it.

I called my brother-in-law, who swooped in with a screwdriver and can of

Magic Lawn Mower Sauce.

What had happened was, when I supposedly left the mower tipped up like that, oil spilled into…I don’t know. Whatever. He got it started.

AND he picked up the carcasses of my electric mowers to see if he might tinker ’em back into shape. Turns out, the more recent one just had a whosie-whatsit popped off its anchor, making the ass end drag on the ground. No wonder it was so hard to push. E re-attached it, and it was good to go. The older mower, well, he took off the blade and it looked like

Jafar's teeth when he's disguised as the old guy in the dungeon.

Yeah, I may have hit a tree root. Once or twice. And a rock. Perhaps a coral reef.

And I guess I had taken the blade off at some point? Because it was installed upside-down. That’d make it run a little rough, I suppose.

One time I was visiting my dad at his office, and a colleague of his said, “When it comes to technology, your father has the opposite of the Midas touch. Everything he comes in contact with turns to shit.”

I’m feeling remarkably like the Scott paterfamilias right now.

Love You, M!

A month ago, my friend who is only 37 years old discovered that she had breast cancer. Last week, she tested positive for The Gene. The gene that’s like, “Ohai! Yeah, your def gonna get more cancer, probably in both boobs. And in your ovaries too, just for good measure, so you should go ahead and get all your lady bits removed now.” What a douchey gene.

Through all this ridiculous business, she has been a total badass.

So I made her a little something:

That's right.

I started with a design from Subversive Cross-Stitch and tweaked it to include woodland creatures AND, as my friend is a CrossFitter, the barbell and kettlebell. Then I found the gaudiest, goldest frame I could find, and voilà!

FUCK CANCER.

(It’s at the gym, M, whenever you’re ready to come WOD.)

 

A Shot of Tequila and a High Five

I remember, after seeing the movie Amélie for the first time, having a conversation with someone, probably my mom, about how we should re-watch it every Sunday night before we had to go back to work on Monday. I know exactly jack shit about cinematography so I’m not sure how Jean-Pierre Jeunet rendered the colors that bright and the soundtrack that poignant and the characters that sublimely flawed and the story that enthralling and delightful. All I know is I walked out of the theater all teary and smiley, repeating “Bredoteau! Bretodeau!” in a distinctly Le Pewian accent to myself, wanting to go out and live life! Do good deeds! Find love!

Last night, I decided to watch The Road.

So the opposite.

I mean: enthralling story, yes. But Jesus. I wanted to crawl into my bed and pull the covers over my head. Which I did. But before I did, I checked Facebook one more time and saw the news of Osama’s bin Laden’s death.

Some people were rejoicing (“Bin Laden is DEAD!!! Rot in hell you dirty piece of shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”).  Some were sober (“No death is worth celebrating.”). Some questioned others’ Christianity (“Christians, we have been called to live a life that is pleasing to Jesus Christ. How does harboring so much hate glorify our Lord and Savior?”)

My first reaction was surprise—I never thought we’d get him—followed by relief, that this guy who orchestrated a movement that has killed thousands finally got his. And then I had a little Toby Keith moment, where I was like, “And at the hands of the Amurricans goddammit!” I shook that off but quickly realized this little operation would greatly increase Barack Obama’s chances of getting re-elected in 2012. So I posted something like: “Ten years. Obama ftw! Seriously, men and women of the U.S. Military and Commander-in-Chief Obama, I’m awed.”

Of course, what followed was quotes from MLK Jr.: “Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”

And videos from Ground Zero and DC, where people were straight up celebrating, and it reminded me of the footage from Muslim countries around the world, of crowds rejoicing as the Twin Towers collapsed. And I thought, “What are we doing?! We’re doing the same thing we found reprehensible!”

The horror of The Road, combined with the ambivalent feelings I had about the assassination, made for some pretty extraordinary bruxercising for me. I woke up this morning and felt like someone had punched me in the ear infection. That’s right. Like I had had an ear infection and then someone punched me in it. I ground my teeth so hard that my jaw’s still all tender on the left side.

I was grumpy all day. One of my students was doing everything in her power to be my Buddha, and my uterus started causing me my monthly strife. I ate too much. Carbopalooza. I got home to find Violet’s limp not any better than it was yesterday. The WOD kicked my ass. And not one of you, MY SO-CALLED FRIENDS, had told me that my nostril hair had gotten completely out of control.

Downtrodden.

But then my friend (the one I quoted at the beginning of this post) updated her status to: ok, y’all: i get and agree that the death of any human, yes even osama bin laden, is not to be taken lightly, and that his death marks the beginning of yet another period of uncertainty, but before we get all “spiritual” and “now, now kids…”, i think we as americans, and for fuck’s sake definitely our troops, deserve a shot of tequila and a high five. we can go back to being “the better person” tomorrow…

It wasn’t Amélie, but it sure made me feel better.