don’t fuck with me cha

Dear Cha Cha Cha,

I’m not mad that you’ve increased your prices. Ownership change almost always amounts to a hike in prices. I’m willing to let slide that you’ve switched to low-premium tortilla chips. And, I’m OK with the fact that your green salsa tastes a little different, a little bit more East Asian, perhaps.

But, I will NOT accept the fact that the chunky salsa is gone. If you were thinking about getting rid of it, bring it back now. And I mean now. You’ve been warned.

Very truly yours,
kb

P.S. There’s something fishy about the goat cheese in the insalada mejor. I can’t figure it out yet, but I’m paying attention. Watch your back.

Resolute

TIRH M probably doesn’t want this to be broadcast to the world, but his New Year’s Resolution circa 2003 was to “not stand on a table and sing ‘My Body is a Wonderland’.” I am unhappy to report that he kept this resolution. What will it be this year, scout?

Bloggers, so nice.

I got my card from Sarah at codebitch.org (she’s not really a bitch at all. huh.). How sweet . . . and they’re penguins!

Today is going to be a fabulous day. I feel extra brainy for not going into work yesterday as it was a strategic move in the battle against illness. Although, I do still get that guilt thing for not going into work. I thought I shook that years ago, but I guess it never quite goes away no matter what.

I don’t feel brilliant today, but I do feel much better. And, please, sigh of relief that it’s not the flu (no need to treat me as if I have zee plague). But, if you’re not interested in a head cold you might not want to drink out of the same glass as me.

My ten-year class reunion is a mere 10 days away. Scary.

props

1. Smallfeat has moved to Mooshoe. I don’t know the story behind the switch but apparently there is one. Anyway, a lot of people talk about the Inuits having ten words for snow, but she actually knows what they are.

2.
I got my holiday card from girl incognito this week! Here is it in all its holiday card glory!

Eye on Thanksgiving

Last night, my car’s tape player busted. I was about 30 miles past Scranton, which in Pennsylvania-speak, is a long way to go yet. I heard “Stacy’s Mom” 5 times in the span of three hours. The tape got stuck in my player at a crucial time in the trip; I was driving through a part of the state where there are more religious stations than country stations (it’s about a 2:1 ratio). I don’t know how many times I heard the word “damnation.” More than I am accustomed to, certainly. I also heard “Stairway to Heaven,” and while I only heard it once it brought back a flood of memories from junior high. That was the song the school dances always ended with, and to this day I can’t figure out why. It was the mid to late 80s, when we should have been ending with Salt N’ Pepa or at least a nice ballad by Bel Biv Devoe (sp?). Did they have ballads?

Thanksgiving has been lovely so far. I am sitting very uncomfortably at my grandmother’s desk–the jeans. It’s the jeans. Bad idea to wear jeans on Thanksgiving. They are so unforgiving. Anyway, I took a few pictures of sleeping relatives as well as relatives playing card games with each other. For some reason my niece loves to play Scrabble with me. Maybe it’s because I set her up with all the good words. I don’t know. I learned that my nephew smokes when his stepdad yelled from the bedroom, “Hey, Donny, do you have a lighter? I can’t find mine!” My nephew is 17. It always makes me laugh when I see other families are so open with such information. I have never been open with any information.

I learned tonight that my grandfather (my grandparents are divorced and he lives about a half hour away now) had a pet raccoon when my dad and aunt were growing up. At some point it went wild and chased a neighbor lady into her house. The neighbor lady called my grandfather to come get his raccoon. He took the raccoon up near the woods to let it go, but seeing as it had gone wild, it went after my grandfather. So, my grandfather shot it. Why, you ask, did my grandfather have a gun? Well, because I’m from Pennsylvania, you see, and it’s normal to have guns around. My grandmother has the latest NRA catalog sitting on her kitchen table for god’s sake.

Ok, that’s all for now. I have to go watch the two-hour ‘Friends’ with my grandmother. Bye!

From the bad parent department

An open letter to my friends in the Pioneer Valley

Hey all,

I keep having this vision in my head of two cats in the backseat of my car as I drive to Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving. Each cat is in his and her cat carrier (one barely fitting inside due to his enormity, the other meowing inconsolably).

Oh, and in case you didn’t get the memo, yes, I have another cat. Her name is Molly.

I know that ___, our primary feeder and best next door neighbor ever, is going to be out of town for some of the weekend. She has been so great to us, so it’s only fitting that she take a break from her feeding duties every once in a while.

If you can only do one day, that is fine. You would only have to come by ONCE that day and feed them each a whole can of wet food and make sure they have fresh water and fresh dry food. Just let me know if there is a day that works and which one it is. We can work out the rest.

I of course will reimburse you with sex, money, food, houseplants, cigarettes or beer. (Ok, nix the sex, but money, food, houseplants, cigarettes and beer still stand.)

Ok, thanks so much, and please don’t report us to Peta.

Very truly yours,
K

The verdict is in

Regarding the holiday season: Smallfeat tells it like it is:

Pro: Shopping fun for well thought out gifts for the many individuals in your life
Con: Last minute shopping for the forgotten ones on Christmas Eve at Wal-Mart

Read it all here.

Mid-Term Paper

Ok, witty friends. Here’s your next assignment. I don’t know about you but I feel like the holidays have sneaked up on me. I’m simply not ready for them.

Your next topic:

The Holiday Season: Love or Hate?

You know who you are…. now get writin’!

Eye on my front porch

The first group of kids at the door consists of two ninjas and a cowboy. The cowboy really wants to get in here and pet my cat, Miles. I look over at Miles who is saying, with his body language, “No way…keep that kid away from me, man.” The kid is insistent on walking into my house. I look at Miles again, who is saying, again, with his body language, “I’m serious, keep that kid AWAY from me.” So, the mother/guardian has to pull the cowboy off the porch, for real, and I close the door. And Miles looks a little less tense, you know, for a cat. We both sigh and go back to our business (he, licking, me, typing).