Yes, I’ve been ignoring the world. I haven’t been posting anything here, there or anywhere. I haven’t been reading your blogs. I’ve been avoiding phone calls, emails, and the litter box. There is a pair of Elmo underwear lying on my dining room table (my husband never picks up after himself) along with a pile of screws, some crayons, a cat, and a power drill. I’m totally deleting my Facebook account tomorrow. I’m thinking about heading into the hills of Marin County with two cases of champagne, an iPhone and my vintage Louis Vuitton suitcase full of gold bouillon to live like the Unabomber.
S T R E S S
I am currently living with so much stress that I could quite possibly eat that entire platter of chocolate chip muffins. All nine of them. I know what you’re thinking. Who bakes nine muffins? 12 muffins is the norm. Well every time I make these delectable sour cream muffins I end up with nine. Who cares. They are so amazingly delicious.
I’m also very crabby.
The dreaded kitchen renovation is still going on. My beautiful organic white stone countertops mined from an endangered riverbed in Madagascar should be arriving this week, just in time for me to slit my throat on a surface that will not stain.
I’m serious. These countertops will not stain.
I just have to remember to leave a note for my husband to clean up the blood with the old rags in the laundry room, not a white t-shirt. Or socks. Or a cashmere blanket. Men.
The whole washingthedishesinthefuckingclawfootbathtubthatihate thing has gotten very old, as well as having to search through the cluttered dining room for a corkscrew to open a bottle of wine is really driving me bonkers. I know, life is tough.
It’s not just the kitchen…
I went to the dentist the other day and was told that I have a freakishly small head and mouth. There goes my career as a porn star. I was given a Dora the Explorer toothbrush and told to have a nice day. I fucking hate Dora.
I had an abandoned toilet sitting in front of my house for a week. An entire week. I was tempted to haul it up the street and gingerly place on the front lawn of our mayor, Gavin Newsom, but instead I did the right thing and called the city to haul it away.
I keep telling myself to breathe, breathe, breathe…
But I can’t. Because I’m a lunatic.
I think I’ll just have a muffin.
And some wine.
30 Comments
You could have put petunias in the pot. It would have looked earth friendly, and kitschy.
Please don’t bleed on that counter. If he won’t pick up Elmo underwear do you really think he’ll clean up blood?
I hope you don’t need to many more muffins to feel better (-;
So, you and I really need to sit down together and DRINK OUR FACES OFF.
Every morning I pull boxer shorts off of my head and then every night I take them off the dinner table…Men+dirty underwear=marrying material. (for fucking sure) I have been sliding through the last month drunk and NOT horny…two very awful things to have going on in the same body.
Lets get high…NOW
.-= A Vapid Blonde´s last blog ..Sad Sad Sad… My Titles Suck a Huge Moose Cock Lately. (****) =-.
It sounds like you’re inundated right now – sorry to hear. Whatever it is or whatever the long list is to accomplish, it’ll be much better for you and those projects if you took a breather. Maybe heading to Marin isn’t a bad idea, perhaps even just taking the Sausalito ferry and putting your head outside the window will help clear your mind. Take care.
P.S. I hate Dora too.
I think the real question here is, with what the dentist told you, how many bites does it take to eat one of those muffins?
I’d kill myself too if I were washing dishes in the bathtub every night. Sucky.
.-= Homemakerman´s last blog ..Here’s Something They Don’t Mention/This is a little Gross =-.
hmmm what was your husband doing on the dining room table with his elmo underpants off, and some screws, crayons, a cat, and a power drill? this is not your typical clue scenario. where was colonel mustard and the candlestick?
you’re not a lunatic, baby. these are valid questions/issues. and if i don’t get a motherfucking blogher cocktail party pass so i can meet you in a bar or something, your husband is going to have a lot more bloodspill to clean the fuck up. and not with the good kitchen towels.
Wine is the cure-all for everything, isn’t it?
At least you have too small a head. I’m the opposite. Everyone says I have a huge head and my ears don’t match. Hey, it could be worse for you, all right?
.-= Unfinished Rambler´s last blog ..Armchair BEA: Highlighting a few blasts from the past =-.
I’m sure that somewhere in the industry that there’s a niche market for women with small mouths and big muffins.
Did the kitchen renovation four year back. Now onto the master bathroom. Washing dishes in the tub is preferable to pee in the kitchen sinks.
At least you didn’t say you are stabby too!
Those muffins do look delicious even though I am fully against chocolate chips in bagels. I guess they are ok in muffins.
I need to send you a case of SCREW-TOP wine!
stress defines redoing a kitchen. we were without one for over 6 months while our contractors treated us like low-rent bastard children of the midnight carnival. I understand your avoidance of all things internet.
.-= Ry Sal´s last blog ..Lavendar Fields… Wine… Rolling Heads… =-.
Oh muffin! My little chocolate chip slang for vagina! Do not fear, I’m here to save the day. 1) 2) BOX o’ wine, baby. Screw tops are nice, too but they don’t hold as much wine. You need more. I can tell.
.-= Elly Lou´s last blog ..Cruzin USA =-.
1) didn’t work. Boo. Re do!
Consider the Dora thing fixed: http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/wire/sns-ap-us-immigration-dora-the-citizen,0,1862770,full.story
.-= Elly Lou´s last blog ..Cruzin USA =-.
I need a drink and a massage just reading about your stress. What the hell are you letting them do to you out there? Seriously, pack that damn bag, pronto! I highly encourage running from problems when they feel overwhelming. If that isn’t really an option, loud music, liquor and hard drugs are a good alternative. Just sayin.
.-= Wicked Shawn´s last blog ..When I Finally Get Excited About Class =-.
Awe- Sweetie- this is all so sucky! My daughter is home from college and baking cookies-choc chip -I wish I could send you a few…hundred.
I know the kitchen pain well. Did it many years ago and need to do it now but you remind me why I shouldn’t.
I am so sorry to hear about your freakish mouth. Dreadful. I agree , Dora is an irritating cweep.
I lost my kiwi for two days last week. It was awful. I was a mess and almost emailed my kiwi friend for comfort:)
Hugs Sweets- it’ll get better, for a while then it’ll get bad again. Thats life m’dear.
.-= laurel´s last blog ..Thursday Hi Hi =-.
Muffins is good therapy. Keep eating the muffins.
.-= Fran´s last blog ..Evidence that the words ‘fashion’ and ‘sense’ don’t always go together so well =-.
Wow, I was this close (read: really really close) to posting an open letter to you tongight asking where the HELL you were, and then I thought to myself, “Chicken, better check her blog first because you haven’t been so Johnny-on-the-Spot yourself, and whaddaya know, there you were. I want your countertops and I will help you write your manifesto if you share your wine. I have some awesome wineglasses. I’ll bring them. Are we going to Canada, though? I’ll remember my passport this time.
.-= chickens Consigliere´s last blog ..Blllllllpppppppp…….Chicken. =-.
Haha am I actually the first comment to your awesome read!
If only more than 19 people would hear this!
Very awesome article! Truely..
i sure like you when you are stressed. reminding your husband to take care of the blood with non cashmere items and to pick up his elmo underpant…well, it made me feel very happy and less like stabbing someone i am married to. in the time it took to type that, the urge returned. but i am still excited about the cashmere elmo burdens.
since unable to comment on your home video over there. i wanted to say that i think that is fucking sick. i did not watch the video b/c i could barely stand to see myself when i BF’d my boys for the first year. i swore i would make it to 1 year unless they walked first because walking over to help yourself to “milk” seems fucked up. when a mom bf’s that long it is because she likes it too much.
unnecessarily long comment. clearly i am like a caged animal, getting out only once every too fucking long.
.-= maggie´s last blog ..What it is…what it isn’t =-.
i sure like you when you are stressed. reminding your husband to take care of the blood with non cashmere items and to pick up his elmo underpant…well, it made me feel very happy and less like stabbing someone i am married to. in the time it took to type that, the urge returned. but i am still excited about the cashmere elmo burdens.
since unable to comment on your home video over there. i wanted to say that i think that is fucking sick. i did not watch the video b/c i could barely stand to see myself when i BF’d my boys for the first year. i swore i would make it to 1 year unless they walked first because walking over to help yourself to “milk” seems fucked up. when a mom bf’s that long it is because she likes it too much.
unnecessarily long comment. clearly i am like a caged animal, getting out only once every too fucking long.
.-= maggie´s last blog ..What it is…what it isn’t =-.
My husband cleaned up a big pile of dog shit with my favorite towel once. I know it’s not the same thing as trying to shower without peeing on the dirty dishes but I try. Unless of course you are one of those folks who would never pee in the shower, then I take that back. I would never do that either. Only foul dirty animals like my towel destroying, dog shit picking up husband would do that.
I ran away from the blogosphere for a week and then I missed Elly talking about her “v” so I came back.
Now in honor of you I will go crack open a bottle of wine by smashing it against the brick exterior of my home and urinate in my sink.
tally ho.
.-= kelly´s last blog ..Postcard From Paradise =-.
it sounds like we’re in the same place, although slightly different: my head is too big and my mouth wide like a horse. I get no toothbrushes only reminders that i need to floss more. Like, everyday. Not once a year.
I hope you eat muffins and drink plenty of booze – you deserve it!!
.-= cecilia´s last blog ..SATC2 – no, really… =-.
Did I just write this? No I couldn’t have. We haven’t seen Elmo undies in these parts for some time now.
Stress sucks. Wish I had some muffins to ingest, but no, I’ll have to stick with Doritos. Hope it eases up soon. In the meantime, have a bottle of wine for me, will you?
.-= Zen Mom´s last blog ..Cujo is Alive and Well =-.
Just reading this made me have to pop a valium.
Hang in there. (I hear that doesn’t stain as badly.)
Nice fill someone in on and this fill someone in on helped me alot in my college assignement. Thank you on your information.
I think it’s the summer months coming up that do it to all the regular bloggers. It’s a good sign you’ve got a life.
…but the muffins make me envious. nom nom nom. Very nice!
Because you obviously don’t have enough going on with the reno and shit I gave you a task, really it’s SubWOWs fault blame her but anywho it’s on my post today.
.-= A Vapid Blonde´s last blog ..Bow Chicka Wow Wow! =-.
I bake nine muffins ALL the time… so you are officially quite normal. Those recipes always say 12 muffins but if you do what they say, you get pathetic muffins that look like they didn’t rise, or that you were too cheap to fill the cups properly. Then everyone complains about how fraccing small they are and they eat two… so it’s really like you only made 6. If you fill the cups a little more, you get proper looking muffins that actually have sides and tops and look like a muffin and so people see them and say wow… your muffins are like, so much better than every other idiot’s muffins. They eat one, tell you how perfect they are and you get to thrill 9 people instead of six people who will eat your muffins only because they’re hungry but will look at you as if you’re a loser who doesn’t love them enough to feed them something better.
See? Making 9 muffins makes you so much better than everyone else who makes 12.
I tell myself this every time I’m filling 3 cups with water so the pan doesn’t warp and jump around in the oven and scare everyone because they think that big noise metal makes when it does that in the oven is like, a drive by shooting or something.
We rock, you and I do. Forever.
.-= fracas´s last blog ..Why I’m Getting Pregnant At 46 =-.
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