Friday, April 27, 2007




and I'll be even higher tomorrow at:

Thursday, April 26, 2007


As recompense for this, I hereby give you this:

My groom was a three-sport aaaaaaathlete in high school. But perhaps it's best that we didn't know one another when he was this age, as dating at that point would have kind of landed me in jail. Well-timed, God.

in kindergarten upon his arrival at:

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Nitty Gritty

Today I threw away candles.

It's at that point in the Great Pack before I leave The Swamp in May. I have these little stubby-stubs sitting in candleholders, good smelly candles, but stubby-stubs, and I looked at them and was like, "Preserve the 57 cents worth of candles... or leave room for the high school class ring."

I cannot tell you how offensive this is to my German reuse-the-diaper-as-dustrag heart. "There's a whole milliliter of Tilex left in here! It needs to come with me!" I'm down to my last roll of toilet paper, but I have a whole pack of paper towels, so if the roll doesn't make it, that one square is about to get a lot bigger.

But it's amazing how little one begins to care about things when one weighs the work involved in strapping said thing to the top of a car. Last night I heaved an entire bookcase out the door, the same bookcase it took me two viewings of Sixteen Candles to properly assemble. Fare thee well, O particle board.

Tomorrow: The snap-together linen closet from Target. We've had some good times, linen closet. Enjoy the Goodwill pile.

time to replace the drip pans at:

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

They Just Wanna

My bachelorette party was so pendingly awesome, its awesomeness extended across state lines. It took two entire days to contain the all the awesomeness. We were flying people in for this. It was a Berlin Airlift of wedge shoes and mascara.

No party is a bachelorette party without a small, spitty baby. Behold Oogie Junior, first manchild of Oogie, who joined us for Phase I, which was lunch at Downtown Disney. He was not impressed with me, and said so with his spew. Twice.

A dear child, but, like all children, the best birth control available.

Phase II involved alcohol.

As did Phase III.

This is Flipper and G-Force and the Flaming Fountain of Bitterness at Pat O'Brian's. The bouncer was a very smart man, and carded the entire party. The piano players were less so, and launched into "Imagine," at which point I emptied my drink, slammed the glass down on the bar, and pronounced us gone.

At Margaritaville, we found a competing bachelorette party, which we served, which meant it was on, and we completely out-bacheloretted them, largely because one of the bridesmaids was wearing her bra on top of her shirt.

The evening was fraught with moments which made me glad I am relinquishing my singledom. I was hit upon by both a man and a woman (one said, "Why are you standing at the bar? Are you buying a drink?" and the other tried to grab my behind. The woman did the grabbing. It was that kind of night.)

We were also witness to a group of girls who did credit to the gender by staggering around going "WHOOOOOOOOO!" before falling down in a pile. They were eventually ejected from Margaritaville, and that? Takes work.

The band, traditionally to be trusted, was initially playing Shania Twain. Oogie Junior The Barfing Baby would have come in particularly handy at this point.

It's pretty sad when the band takes twenty, and then people come out to dance. The DJ had to break the glass on the Emergency Bar Anthem and bust out "I Will Survive". Then he did unspeakable things to a stuffed parrot (at left.) I decided that we all had to be pictured together. (NOTE: This decision was made well into Phase III.)

Then the band ditched the woman who had been spinning the horror of Shania, the keyboardist got up for "Fight For Your Right to Party," and the quality of entertainment took a vast upswing. I am told that he held the microphone down to me in time for the verse containing that immortal couplet: "YOUR MOM BUSTED IN AND SAYS WHAT'S THAT NOISE! AW MOM YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS-- IT'S THE BEASTIE BOYS!" "Sing it, honey!"

I teach poetry, by the way.

This picture was taken when I was young, and happy, and hadn't yet heard the words all women dream of hearing at her bachelorette party as she exits the bathroom:

"Hi, Professor Ellis! Will you have our essays to hand back on Monday?"


sleeping it off at:

Monday, April 23, 2007

Miss Bachelorette

My uber-fabulous bachelorette party was this weekend. I don't think it was as great a success as was originally anticipated, seeing as no one was incarcerated. But at least I got thrown up on, albeit by a four-month-old, so no complaints.

Although at one point in the evening, I apparently looked like this:

And the tattoo is still healing.

four glasses of wine at:

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