SAME BAT TIME, SAME BAT CHANNEL

This weekend is the Garlic Festival. My children and I will be joining my brother for a hot day of smelly food and people, like we do every year. (The food there is out of this fucking world. Seriously.)

Last year my family had quite an adventure there.

There will be no kid competitions this year (that I know about) so we should have a pretty normal day.

Then again, I would have thought that last year.

Anyhoo - Happy Sunday.

ASSUMPTIONS MAKE AN ASS OF MY UMPTIONS

Or whatever.

Things I have assumed of late:

1. Everyone knows that Tempest is the most bad-ass video game. Evah!

Turns out that there are only 16 of us who even remember this game, and my friend Angela is one of them. And I didn't even know this until today. Which makes her an even more precious flower of delight.

2. When I ask my kiddos to pick up their stuff around the house they understand that I mean the dirty socks, pokemon cards, pajama bottoms, water glasses, giant mountain of stuffed animals, books and 6 blankets from the now defunct living room fort.

Apparently they think I mean, "Put the remote controls on the coffee table."

3. If left long enough the laundry will do itself.

Nope, turns out it doesn't.

4. Anyone with a brain knows that SunChips KILL Doritos. Doritos don't deserve to lick the seat where the SunChips were just sitting a minute ago.

Sadly, it is not so. SunChips remain the red-headed step child in the (totally abusive and neglectful) snack food family.

5. You will judge me. Harshly.

I'll admit right now that I am totally judgmental. I judge. I judge before, during and after any given situation. This doesn't make the situation any different. It just makes me surprised when it turns out that I am wrong (always).

So when I am met with openness and warmth - well, it scares me a little.

At blogher '08 I met women of every shape, every size, every stage in life (including infants) and I found them, each and every one, so beautiful and lovely. The confident ones, the relaxed ones, the scared ones, the stressed ones (even the puking ones) - each of them a delicate brushstroke, exactly, perfectly just what and where they needed to be. And in the reflection of this masterpiece I found that I was, too. Perfectly me. Perfectly human. Perfectly accepted.

I am an ass. I own it. But I learn a lot though my assyness. It continues to serve me.

I assume you'll agree.

IT IS, OF COURSE, POSSIBLE TO DANCE A PRAYER

I've never wanted anything more than to dance like a fucking nut job with a gaggle of complete strangers in every city of the world.

STUFF AND OTHER THINGS

It all started with Stuff White People Like. Which cracks me right up. Particularly the ones on New Balance Shoes (my husband, who is not white, per se) and White Problems: Poorly Read Partners (Also my husband! I'm the poorly read one!).

Then I started reading other Stuff People Like.

Like Stuff Christians Like. Such as porn and crock pots. Yum.

And that led to Stuff Nobody Likes. And particularly the post on Grammar Nazis.

As it turns out, I am a poorly-read wannabe mini grammar Nazi. If that is even possible. I like learning about common grammar mistakes and shaming people for making them. For example, the phrase "for all intents and purposes" would be correct. If you are talking about "intensive purposes" you ought to be working in an ICU ward, with great purpose. Also, if you feel sick to your stomach, you are feeling nauseated. Not nauseous. Things that are nauseous cause nausea. It's a bit tricky. You'll get it after a while. I'll harp on you about it. Fun for everyone!

I have learned A LOT from the Grammar Girl podcast. Fun and smart and super short. You can listen from the site, or you can subscribe to the podcast on iTunes.

Feel free to shame your friends and family with all the nuggets of delicious hyper-correctness you will find here.

My gift to you!

UGLY MOMMY SAYS "WTF??!!"

Interesting article about the new book, My Beautiful Mommy.

The book in question, My Beautiful Mommy, is a children's book. About when mommy goes in for "a little work." ON HER NOSE AND HER BOOBIES.

Kill me now.

RICISM IN AMERICA

Him: The white rice and the brown rice can go in the same Tupperware, right?

Me: No. I want the brown rice separated.

Him (mumbling): ... pshish ... hurmph ... white woman's keepin' the brown rice down...

DEAR LORD BABY JESUS, A THOUGHT

You know what I think? Any god who gives a shit about whether or not I go see this movie needs to get a fucking hobby.

But what do I know? Perhaps omnipotence isn't interesting enough. Maybe becoming overbearing and controlling about the entertainment choices of billions of creatures will help fill the meaningless days and oh, so lonely nights. It seems to work for humans.

BJ, if this is the case, forgive me. And also, if you're feeling lonely and you see me awake late at night, feel free to stop by for a game of scrabble and a cup of tea.