Ten little bits

1. I don’t like Dinosaur Jr. I’m really sorry, Matthew, I’m trying, really I am, but I just don’t get it. I think it’s one of our generation gap things.

2. That earlier piece on being fat, that really was written a whole year ago. There’s lots of ways I’m not OK, but, at the moment, I’m a proud size 16 shopping for plus-size sexy bikinis for my summer flirty beach debut.

3. I don’t like watching re-runs of Sex and the City because I get all twitchy. I start thinking I’m investing too much in a relationship that isn’t happening on my terms and that I’m not appreciated or loved enough and that maybe my love for Mr. Big just isn’t big enough to carry both of us…. And then I remember that I’m the Mr. Big in the relationship—emotionally unavailable, difficult to love, taciturn, whatever. Oh, but I’m not rich. I also don’t have a car and driver. Anyway, me, I’m not Carry Bradshaw. I’m going to make a flash card that says “You’re not Carry Bradshaw” and tape it to the entertainment center. “Oh yeah, right, I’m angst-ing out over something totally fake. Duh!”

4. I wish I spoke German. Or French. Preferably German and French.

5. This one shouldn’t be relegated to Number Five, but when you’re trying to keep something outside your brain, sometimes that something slips in somewhere weird. My little baby nephew had some sort of seizure. I didn’t hear it called a seizure, but something bad happened and he behaved abnormally. He had a spasm and then couldn’t be woken up. Good news is that it happened on Sunday and he seems perfectly fine now. He went to the emergency room, woke up, had many tests and observations done, and they think he’s fine. If it happens again, he’s not fine, but if it’s just once, he’s fine. That’s pretty vague, huh? I’m opting for the “he’s fine it was only once” vague but comforting route. Also, he was excited about the hospital room. He pointed to everything and said, “Mama, we have a new TV. Mama, we have a new lamp. Mama, we have a new bed.” To me that’s comforting evidence that nothing about him has changed.

6. In honor of the Worldwide Wrestling Entertainment spectacle called “Elimination Chamber,” which is really just a cage match or “Hell in a Cell” but fancied up, I have decided to re-name our bathroom The Elimination Chamber. The first time I used The Elimination Chamber tonight, it took all my powers of self-control and maturity to not shout: “Hey Matthew! I’m in The Elimination Chamber!”

7. It turns out that Matthew doesn’t even like bikinis. I guess that cancels out the search for the world’s sexiest and sturdiest support bikini ever. That’s OK. There’s a lot more one-pieces for us chubbos out there.

8. Lately I need to be physically restrained from rescuing dogs. Only the reminder that our lease was very grudgingly written to include just one dog keeps me from dialing that rescue number at the vet’s. Is this nesting for childless people? Wanting dogs?

9. As usual, I really ought to be in bed.

10. Love ya, Ta Ta For Now!