Wednesday, December 19, 2007

oh yeah

Daniel also had a birthday, on the twelfth.

Which I forgot to commemorate here on these pages.

Oops.

Herewith a short synopsis of the day's events: I was all "Kid? Weee! It's your BIRTHDAY!", and Daniel was all "wtf is a birthday? Pass me the damn tank engine". The poor kid went into child care too, ON HIS BIRTHDAY, because I suck that much. Good thing we hade Point A in force, Point A being that the dude has no idea what a birthday is anyway.

Which is a good thing because *mumblemumblenopresentscoughmumble*

Speaking of which, I expect stacks of people are still doing their Christmas shopping, and I'm not even up to "still", I'm still on "not yet". Ah. HEM.

Which is relevant because I want to get Daniel a big assed Thomas the Tank Engine tent to put in the back yard as my tunnel idea went off so well. How well did it go? Hint: That last sentence was littered, simply LITTERED, with sarcasmo tone as the tunnel/tent/teepee thing went down like a lead balloon. .

Speaking of balloons, Daniel was given a bunch of helium balloons at his party-which he LOVED, except he snuck outside and let the fuckers go. I have no idea how he did it, considering he was surrounded by responsible adults and how we all kind of knew in a Duh kind of ay to only let him play with the balloons inside, you know, where there are roofs. And then he got a foil balloon given to him on his actual real birthday and somehow the little party pooper snuck outside and....let it go too.

So much for the balloon joy.

But! Cop an eyeful of this:

balloon! <balloon! part II balloon! part III

and pop some corn and settle down for a bit of this:



and while we're at it:
little man, big shoes

He was walking around in a pair of my (never worn) heels the other day too.



His nappy is all skewiff in the photo because when he put my shoes on, no pants! So I dressed him while he was still wearing his high heels, ha ha ha! in order to capture the moment decently for prosperity. Initially though, heels, naked, and stumbling around like a drunk little cross dresser? MY GOD THE CUTENESS. It BURNED!!

And you need to see these because, yeah yeah, cute kid bla bla *yawn*
everybody SING!

LOOK AT MY HAIR! It looks like movie star hair. Okay, it looks nothing like movie star hair, but it doesn't look balding, is what I'm saying. Hell, even I can see it actually looks kind of nice. Ish. And thank god you can't see my teeth because in a few festive party pics, you can and ooh, yuck, etc. Anyway, to the hair story. Regret be my name, I swear. When I saw another crappy photo, I was all "woe is me, I should have cut my hair before the paparazzi launched themselves at me (what? they were only there for daniel? THE NERVE!) so I did. It looked SO crappy, I cut it all off. Okay, two inches or so off, but still, *sob*, and now I hate it. And it looked so long and floofy and almost okay, though granted, it still looks totally just out of bed like in those photos, BUT IT ACTUALLY LOOKED KIND OF OKAY, wah.

Point being, I. Can. Never. Win. Not with my mental health issues. Gah.

Daniel is currently watching the Thomas the Tank Engine dvds he was given, and I'm currently feeling guilty about not parenting him AT ALL.

I've also been up to my back teeth in I don't know what the heck, but the morning has gone and we're still in our jammies and are fetid, stinky and unshowered.

Which is news you didn't need to hear.

In other news, I opened my car door last night and cracked myself so hard in the head that I saw stars. Daniel was in the back pack so gave me a big hug as I stumbled around holding my head. I actually CRIED, it hurt so much. Today though, barely a mark. There's a line slash lump and a bruise running down the side of my head, kind of up through my left eyebrow and toward my hairline, and it's probably the perfect imprint of the edge (the EDGE!!) of the car door. It feels like it should be a freakin' goose egg though, cuz it's all hurty and throbby and woe! Is me!

And in yet more news of woe, there's this new function with this new mac called "spotlight", probably with an exclamation mark too, "spotlight!", because it's so cool and all, and it comes up when I've inadvertently hit a key with a random finger, which I do ALL THE FUCKING TIME GOD HELP ME, and all my typing them goes into the search function of whateverthefuck it is and damn, it's annoying the SHIT out of me.

ANYWAY, in closing and to add to my repertoir of whine, my hayfever has been so fucking bad this week that two days ago, as well as chugging GALLONS of that flo stuff up my nose, I took an antihistamine. Me! TAKING DRUGS! I KNOW! Zyrtec was my drug of choice and yesterday I didn't wake up until 10am. Then, because I am an idiot, even as I was wondering why in fuck I was so damned tired, I took another one. Five minutes later, I thought, oh, yeah. The antihistamine. Awesome.




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