strictly verboten out out out out
YEAH I GOT A TRADE PAPERBACK SO WHAT
I Bookmooched a copy of Pet Semetary [sic], and I had a tiny bit of leftover Literary Wanker Shame about reading a lurid-covered horror novel on the train, but now I have gone all honey-badger and decided that I just can’t give a shit anymore. I have quite a bit of irritation for a lot of Stephen King, particularly his tired tropes of taciturn weatherbeaten New England men and honest, overweight sheriffs, plus I hate how many of his perfectly good, plot-driven horror novels suddenly have to take a heavy-handed turn for the cosmic and Manichean. But so far Pet Semetary has avoided this trap (I guess there’s still time, though) and is kind of awesome, with a sort of Greek-tragedy inevitability about it.
Nora (who passed her karate test, by the way)* is mostly reading all these books about evolution/the Big Bang/weird giant insects from the Carboniferous era, just like the good little godless Commie I am raising her to be. As for non-reading pursuits, she asked for Sea Monkeys at the science store and LT acquiesced, so now there are brine shrimp living in my kitchen. They are sort of creepy, actually. Not creepy like an enormous ancient millipede, but close.
*Karate test was not until 4 pm, on a weekend that she had spent with the grandparents (who I know for a fact are somewhat slack with the bedtimes), and after a morning that involved golfing at the driving range, a trip to a pumpkin farm, and a chatter-filled ride back to the city. Add a two-hour karate evaluation and a celebratory Japanese-food feast afterward. Girlfriend was tired.
But there will be no rest for the weary, as this weekend Nora has to (a) finish making her effigy of Teddy Roosevelt and writing the accompanying report;* and (b) stay up more or less all night for her first sleepover with a friend, which (un-restfully for me) is at our house. She is still dubious about sleeping anywhere other than home or Grandma’s, but enthusiastic about the idea of hosting.
*There are a lot of cool facts about Teddy Roosevelt. Killed a mountain lion with a knife! Got shot and kept on speechifying! Drank heroic amounts of coffee every day!
LET ME TELL YOU WHAT TO DO
A while back at work I made a decision, and when I was talking about the decision in a meeting there were a bunch of worrywart poopheads who kept saying things like “well what if this certain group of people wants to do it the other way” and I kept saying that won’t happen. But if they do want to do it that other way, I will tell them no, because that other way is stupid. The worrying people had no faith whatsoever and kept mumbling through various channels (email, IM, secret conversations with each other) about the dreaded WHAT IF. They also wanted to ask the certain group which way they would prefer: Mimi’s way or the stupid way? And of course I was like jesus god no, NEVER ASK. Haven’t you learned this by now?
Today I communicated the decision to the certain group, who not only did not want to do it the other way, they said things like “okay” and “good idea” and “this will make things easier.” I would like to say that I was a regal ocean liner of calm leadership about this, and just sailed quietly away into the understated sunset, but of course I could not resist emailing all the worrywart poopheads with the marvelous news. I did manage not to say, “told you so,” but only just.
Then I went to lunch. And when I came back I had a new monitor! I have so much screen! I did not know I was getting a new monitor, although an IT guy swears I should have known. Apparently it was planned for a while, although I like to pretend it is my thank-you gift for being decisive. And for never asking.
WELL HELLO LITTLE DEARIES
Did I tell you we have mice? Not in the house, god no. Did you know that mice dribble urine everywhere as they walk? Just like drunk hobos! That is why you don’t want mice (or drunk hobos) in your house. But our mice are outdoors, which strikes me as odd, since all of our delicious crackery foodstuffs are indoors. However, we do have a birdfeeder near the garage, and we have witnessed tiny gray mice peep out from some kind of under-garage tunnel to eat fallen birdseed, so maybe that is where they are choosing to hang.
I am not bothered by the outdoor mice as long as they stay that way, and Nora loves to watch them, David Attenborough-style, sitting very still in the grass and hushing anyone who talks or walks around the yard doing yard stuff. She took one of the little plastic pizza-delivery box-proppers and made the mice a dining table, and planted a small branch to be “shade” for them, and I sometimes let her bring out a tiny scrap of carrot peel as an offering, even though I think leaving food in the yard is a pretty bad idea for several reasons—not the least of which is that the presence of mice and birdseed has already attracted a few stray cats and, one night, a possum. Any more backyard temptations will probably result in a whole damn zoo hanging out in my tiny yard. Maybe if the wildlife gets really bad I can just prop up Nora’s cardboard Teddy Roosevelt back there, complete with a cardboard replica of a 19th-century hunting gun. Watch out animals! TR is going to stuff you and display your carcass somewhere!
—mimi smartypants for the people!