Mamie, don’t think I don’t know what you’re about. The giant gummy bags? Gummy burgers, gummy fried eggs? I thought you were there for me.
The other day, Mames called from Old Navy to tell me she’s bought Kan purple jeans and a gold sweater. I tell her we’re not raising Beyonce over here. Kan, of course, loves them (“Aaahoooh!).
Let’s face it though: nothing, not the personalized piggy bank, not the Swan’s Lake jewelry box, not the ballerina necklace and bracelet, will beat out the Bratz doll. The one that spent the night before the party at a revived Studio 54 doing lines in the bathroom.
In the end, I guess it went swimmingly. I’m already forgetting it in my signature defensive style. Little girls wearing wreaths fed ducks and played on tire swings. They hit the piñata with surprising vim. That bit was sort of unsettling--they would smile sweetly, then suddenly get v. determined and MAD and momentarily look like little lunatics. Like, they were supposed to hit 3 times, but it was apparently hard to stop once they got started. They just kept going, while the adults clapped and whimpered in terror. Some of those with bad aim wound up beating me instead. But it’s fine. Light bruising. Whatever.
And then. Kan’s been begging me to eat lunch with her at school, especially today because it’s now officially her birthday. I don’t have the time or the masochistic desire to eat fish sticks in a windowless room full of children (shudder), so I just drop off cupcakes. Kan is sent to collect them with a friend. She sees the box, says, “Ooooh, cupcakes.” Walks up, takes the box, ignores me, and walks off with her friend. “You’re welcome,” I shout after her down the hallway, “not a problem! Happy birthday!” I’m like the person who’s been broken up with that doesn’t get it yet. She looks back at me like, “Ew, did it just speak?”
Who cares. That birthday party was so five minutes ago. Now, we need to CARVE PUMPKINS!!!! DECORATE FOR HALLOWEEN!!!! BAKE PUMPKIN EVERYTHING!!!! WE NEED GHOSTS AND SCARECROWS!!!! MOOOOOVE!!!
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jesus christ, snoop dogg. calmn down. and way to go for the jugular with that whole "beyonce" thing. my favorite part was when kan had clearly been coached during her phone call to me.
kan: thank you for the presents, mamie.
me: no problem, kan. how was the party?
kan: i particularly liked the maps calendar.
me: sweet. what was your favorite part of the party?
kan: thanks again, mamie. here's hannah.
i love that she thanked you for the maps calendar puzzle, w/c i felt was the most random. and it's thin, like a calendar would be, but it says 350 piece puzzle included, so i'm afraid to open it.
also, PUKKA SHELLS eric?? welcome to sigma tau delta.
kidding of course. you guys are the shiznit.
Real motive for giving a pukka shell necklace/bracelet kit: she makes one for you and one for Mamie. You guys don't wear them. She cries. Cries all the time. You feel guilty (mamie?). You end up wearing them. All the time.
oh man. that look! its only going to get worse with age. i mean i think i still break up with my mom on at least a daily occasion.
i know, it's hopeless. i thought bc i was her sister, it'd be cool. like, we're a united front. but when you constantly reprimand someone for chewing with their mouth open, they're going to divorce you.
Envy sets in every time I read your posts (and Mamie's even though I don't think we know each other -- Hi, Mamie) b/c I'm forced to examine exactly how boring my life is at each moment. I begin to think, what if I just made something up so that hannah and mamie don't find it excruciatingly boring to have a link to my blog...? but, endless hours of examinations aside, i still come up with nothing, and wish, sometimes, that indo was not merely Indochine leftovers and that it, miraculously, appears in my fridge.
hat. hmm, you're absolutely right. if we can agree that boring actually means: lyrical, luminous, and important in a way that our peevish exchanges are not :) xoxo.
oooh when are you carving? I love pumpkin carving! Will there be rum? There needs to be rum.
thing is, i've never pumpkin carved. no idea how to go about it. if i bribe with rum, maybe pumpkin carving party?? you could drink AND wield a knife.
Pumpkin Carving 101:
It helps to call them jack-o-lanterns. It's much spookier. And there will be none of those stencil-jobbies. Big, toothy, grins only.
My expertise are available. And rum or pumpkin beer will suffice. Let me know when.
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