Archive for October, 2006

Published by PaintingChef on 31 Oct 2006

She’s also quite adept at making those little animals that sit on Kleenex boxes and give you nightmares.

Aren’t fertility drugs the best? Doesn’t it seem like I was JUST. ON. THEM. At some other inopportune time? Much like this week while I am trying to get all the final preparations done for the Art Guild’s event on Friday…

But NO! Because according to the universe, its not enough to be stressed out about planning an event, worrying that NOBODY is going to show up and wringing your hands about trying to paint something but then everything that shows up on a canvas looks like fresh hairy dog shit. You know what would make it just a little more interesting? Why not add a sparkly little cherry on top and throw in CRAZY PSYCHO CLOMID WIFE just for shits and giggles.

Hey! Maybe when nobody shows up to Art After Dark and the mean and nasty guy from the Artists Guild who likes to second guess every step I make and I have my doubts that he even thinks I’m capable of wiping my own ass harasses me about screwing the whole thing up I can just reach down his throat, quickly knit his small intestines into a scarf and strangle him with it. That would be fun, no?

Because I’m quite certain that Crazy Psycho Clomid Wife knows how to knit…

** And yes. I did swear on the Nordstroms Christmas Book that last time was the last shot at Clomid and that I was scared of the Thailand Clomid for fear that I would give birth to a twelve headed puffer fish with nine horns and a pierced ear but I decided that I lied. Because I quite simply refuse to admit that I can’t get pregnant without more serious intervention. It will fail, naturally, as it always does, and we will end up doing IVF but I’m jut not ready yet. So there.**

Published by PaintingChef on 26 Oct 2006

As long as I don’t get pulled over things should go swimmingly.

Dear whatever hellish entity it was that decided it was my turn to be sick…

Fuck you.

Normally I would welcome a couple of days in bed under the influence of whatever pharmaceuticals I could get my grubby mitts on while I gorged on daytime television and macaroni and cheese. (Because for all my snobbish culinary tendencies…my ultimate comfort is still mac and cheese…).

This is not normally. There are things to plan! People to call! Errands to run! The only positive thing this hiatus from productivity is going to accomplish is a painting created under the influence of NyQuil and Sudafed, the last remaining legal narcotics.

So while I am hallucinating about flying leopard print purple rhinoceroses and lime green furry elephants maybe you could find it in your heart to give me just a couple of hours today where I’m no foaming at the mouth so that I may brush my hair, get dressed, and run a few errands? Is that too much to ask?

In return I promise that I will allow you to give me a full-on psychotic breakdown action packed with me wailing about how the punk ass ovaries screwed me again and instead of buying a pregnancy test this week I bought tampons…again…and how depressed I am upon learning that I am one of those people who needs to just do it themselves rather than asking people for help in planning and event and plenty of gnashing of teeth and wringing of hands. But if you don’t mind, can it wait until after Christmas? Because I just don’t have time in the schedule for the emotional episode I deserve until then…

Thanks.

Published by PaintingChef on 25 Oct 2006

Just barely keeping down breakfast…

In making my morning rounds of completely non-productive clickeration (word of the day), I popped into Mamapop, one of my newest additions because I love all things Amalah-written.

That was roughly 23 minutes ago. I was staring speechless at my computer screen the whole time and somehow lost 20 minutes that I can never get back. Because of this. How exactly do we come up with this? And is it just me or do I suddenly feel much dirtier? And I’m pretty sure he’s talking to me but I have the sound muted because I just ate.

WAIT! Before you click! Its some Wednesday Husband Harassment…

“Patrick!”

“Before you say anything at all can I just remind you that I was at work for 18 hours yesterday and I’ve only had about 4 hours of sleep and now I’m going back to work?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say that my sense of humor, sarcasm, and oh you’re so cute have not yet woken up so tread lightly my precious flower.”

“Damn. Nevermind.”

“No, what, I’m sorry.”

“I was just going to tell you that I think I ripped the sheet with my toe last night.”

“I’m going to work.”

“Okay! Love you! Bye! Bring me something!”

“You make my head hurt.”

Published by PaintingChef on 24 Oct 2006

And for his next trick…

Do you see this man? Do you know that he is the most amazingly talented man in the whole world? Do you also know that about 30 seconds after this picture was taken he walked out and showed me about where the three point line would be?

superman.JPG

He even built himself a little hideaway… for tools! And for when Crazy Psycho Clomid Wife rears her ugly head. I plan on wallpapering it with pictures of me being normal. Kind of like a little do-it-yourself brainwashing chamber but with tools and wood and beer.

under-the-deck.JPG

And now the first phase of the deck. Completed. (the next step…obviously…will be railings). Its so beautiful, there just aren’t any words…

deck3.JPG

deck2.JPG

deck1.JPG

Published by PaintingChef on 23 Oct 2006

Jennifer Capriati ruined my game of Trivial Pursuit…AGAIN.

Have I told you that Patrick and I are nerds? We spent yesterday afternoon playing Trivial Pursuit (the 90s edition…chock FULL of 90210 questions) and eating chocolate cake while it rained outside. Doesn’t that sound kind of perfect?

I generally kick Patrick’s ass all through the game, racking up enough of those little triangle pieces to build a small shopping mall while he asks me question after question because I can never land on that damn center section so he can ask me a SPORTS question which we ALL know I’m going to miss. Meanwhile he is sneakily accumulating the rest of his little plastic pieces and then he’ll magically land in the center on his first try, get a question about either Jennifer Capriati or obscure computer references (two topics he has an unexplainable mastery of) and win even though I’ve kicked his ass the whole game. This is a huge source of amusement to him.

To me? Its just not okay.

And Jennifer Capriati? Really Patrick?

Next »