Thursday, October 7, 2010

She Works Hard For It, Honey

My life is so harrowing. I actually had to listen to men work on the roof of my house today. I was terrified, I tell you, hearing them walk around like they weren’t 3 stories up without a safety net. I thought about asking them to walk quieter, but then I realized that would involve me actually getting my rump off the couch, and I just couldn’t do it. I thought loudly to the worker men, although they don’t seem to be tuned in to my thought waves.

We’re getting a new roof. It’s lighter than the old one--not in weight, because how would I know that, honestly? In color. All things being equal, I probably would have chosen the black roof because that’s how I feel on the inside, ha ha, but it turns out that a lighter roof lasts a few years longer. A few years longer than the 30-40 years this new one should last, anyway.

I have a long list of things I ought to do today. Fold kid underwear is among them. But I just can’t be bothered. Instead, I did valuable things like downloading books from Itunes and soaking my gym-sore muscles in a hot bath. I haven’t even bothered to brush my hair, not that anyone would notice, anyway, because I sort of have that fried-at-the-end look going. And roots. Nice, brown roots. Well, brown except for the increasingly large percentage of white roots.

Know what I’d really like to do today? Lay on a blanket in the backyard, soaking up the perfect 70 degree weather. Except, we’re getting a new roof. And it feels a bit creepy to lay out, even fully dressed, when we have 5 men in steel-toed boots climbing up and down ladders. Sort of Misery-creepy. Sort of old-white-lady-looking-for-a-hoochie-man creepy.

Besides, I’d have to move my body, and I really, really don’t feel like moving again.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Give Me The Beet, Boy

What do you do with 40 lbs. of potatoes and 30 lbs. of beets? Fry them, of course. Being as how we don’t have a root cellar, we opted for grease. Once upon a time, we had a good friend and pseudo-relative who worked for Frito-Lay. He said that once you tasted a chip fresh from the fryer, you’d never eat them from a bag again. I don’t know if that jingle would work for advertising, but I think he’s right. I’m imagining fresh chips with barbecue seasoning, ranch seasoning, rosemary, chipotle, maple... I may need a Fry Daddy. 70 lbs. total, you know.

Here’s what we had for lunch. Remember, I had to match the potato and beet chips. We had hot dogs and M&M’s. I’m calling it “protein” and “little chocolate pills of joy”. My sister hates M&M’s (plain). How can you hate M&M’s? They’re candy coated yumminess. I usually eat one at a time, but today I was downing them by the handfuls. I’m not sure how that fits into the “lose last 3 lbs. of baby fat” regimen, but maybe it’ll all go to muscle. If it does, if this sneaky new diet gives me abs that can crush walnuts, I’ll get M&M tattooed on my tummy. It’ll be so rock-solid that I might even wear a bikini to show off the tattoo. Although probably not, because no amount of muscle hides the pasty-whiteness of my constantly-covered-regions.

What would you do with 30 lbs. of beets?