I · want · to · be · the · girl · with · the · most · cake

I burned my diary in 10th grade after my mother read it and then punished me for my thoughts. I lit fire to it in our sink and then tried to wash the ashes down the drain. However, I'd failed to consider how the cloth cover would burn and almost broke our garbage disposal in the process. Then I became worried that I'd be in trouble for breaking the disposal. My anxiety became mixed into my hatred for my mother as swiftly as the smoke filled the room.

She lives in this house over there,
has her world outside it.
SCRABBLES IN the earth with her fingers
and her mouth--she's five years old.
Thread worms on a string,
keeps spiders in her pocket,
collects fly-wings in a jar scrubs horse flies
and pinches them on a line.
She's got one friend, he lives next door.
They listen to the weather.
He knows how many freckles she's got;
she scratches his beard.
She's painting huge books,
glues them together,
They saw a big raven;
it glided down the sky--she touched it.
Today's a BIRTHDAY they're SMOKING cigars,
He got a chain of flowers,
sows a bird in her knickers,
they're SMOKING cigars,
lie in the bathtub,
chain of flowers.

Thanks to the rain, I happened to be flipping through all 23 of my channels this weekend when I came across this little gem. If you like zany cartoons that are funny on many levels, you should definitely check it out for yourself.

Chuck E. Cheese parties are all the rage these days. We have been to three in the last two months. I must say that Emileigh loves them, although I personally find them to be particularly jarring. In fact, I view my escorting her to Chuck E. Cheese parties almost like some sort of valiant badge of motherhood. I'll take my honor where I can find it.

Chuck E. Cheese is a garish frenzy of lights, noise, and music. And as if that, the excitement of dancing with an over-sized rodent, and the swarms of teeming children everywhere I turned wasn't enough to test my tenuous nerves, at this last rat soiree, I had more than one uncomfortable conversation with someone I was unable to avoid. They graduated from bad to worse, culminating with this last happy exchange, prior to which somehow the topic turned to the news that Emileigh's dad is getting married.

Her: He is getting married again?
Me: Oh, yeah, in June.
Her: *surprised look*
Her: Huh
Me: *puzzled look*
Her: Well, it is just so... I mean, I don't have any personal *experience* with it of course, but, huh, I mean usually you think if someone is divorced, it's because they can't commit. But this... huh.
Me: Well. Maybe it was just me.
Her: *nervous laughter*
Her: Yeah.

After a lengthy trial and long consideration, I have decided that the Intuition shaver is a rip-off. There is just no way to preserve the built in soap long enough to make it worthwhile... every time you rinse the damn thing, it melts right away! And once the soap is worn down (as in after two uses), you are pretty much in for total razor burn. And blood. Don't forget the blood. The only real use I can foresee for the Intuition is last minute underarm shaving, possibly in public bathrooms where soap is at a premium. And let's face it, that situation just doesn't roll around enough to warrant this purchase. But it was nice hoping that it would work out. Alas, another shaving idea bites the dust.

I am quite frequently one of those shave-your-legs-in-the-bathroom-sink-at-the-last-minute kind of girls, so imagine my delight to see a commercial for some new fancy razor for women which has the soap built right into the blade. Wow, that looks like some good stuff! I made a mental note to look it over next time I had the chance, and sure enough, I actually remembered to do just that the last time I was at K-Mart. I even picked up a three-pack of the new Schick Intuition razors and was happily on my way.

And then, I tried to use them. I happened to be on the phone at the time.

Me: What the hell...
Her: What?
Me: Ever see that commercial for those all-in-one soap razor things?
Her: No. What?
Me: Yeah, well they make these new razor things with the soap on them already. I thought it would be cool since I am always dry shaving on the run.
Her: Eww, why do you do that?
Me: I just do, so I thought they would be a great idea. But what the fuck? First, there are no instructions inside the box. This makes no sense at all. These things don't work, DAMN.
Her: Are you shaving your legs right now?
Me: Yeah, and this is the stupidest thing. There is nothing to hold it by.
Her: What do you mean?
Me: I mean, it is just like holding a bar of soap, but more slippery and with a razor inside. They need to make some changes to these things.
Her: I never heard of them, but is *sounds* like a good idea.
Me: Yeah, I thought so too, fuck.
Her: How much were they?
Me: Eight bucks for three
Her: Shame. Waste of money, huh?
Me: My legs are bleeding.

I was so irked by the whole affair that I actually went to the Schick Intuition website. And what I learned there made me feel less than sharp, but not half as dull as when I heard the message that my friend left for me today.

Her: Hey, I am just calling cause I have been laughing ever since I finally saw that Schick Intuition commercial today. Hahaha... ok, from what I can tell, and from what I *saw*, you must have bought just a replacement pack of blades, not the whole thing. It shows that "bar of soap" that you were talking about, but in the commercial it sits on a handle that says "Schick Intuition" on the side. Hahaha... you didn't buy the handle, just the *blades*. You were all, "this thing doesn't work"... hahaha... call me.

Curious?

Don't forget to click on "See how easy it is"...

(insert eye roll here)

For someone who spends an inordinate amount of time bitching about tiny batteries and how difficult they are to obtain and use, you don't seem to be very knowledgeable about the rudiments of basic electronics. Not that you deserve it, but let me give you a tip that might serve to increase your savvy with my kind. In order to obtain the maximum power usage from your batteries, it would help immensely if, in fact, you would actually turn your little radio OFF after you finish using it each day. And unsuccessfully attempting to use a dime, some cardboard, a beach tag, your fingernail, and your car keys to pry the back off the battery compartment isn't helping matters either.

Sincerely,
The Energizer Bunny

Remember that Bentley Diamonds sign? Well today, it had an actual name written after the infamous "Will you marry me?" sign. It seems that lucky Jacqueline had someone pop the question. And good news! She said yes! I know because those very words scrolled by for my viewing pleasure only moments later. Sometimes I hate technology.