I hate that question. I hate it because I never have an answer more interesting than, “I tried this new kind of salad dressing this week.” It takes massive amounts of effort to come up with anything to say that I haven’t said 37 times before. The other thing I hate about that question is that I never know what it means. It’s like when close family members ask me “How are you?” I never know what they’re looking for. Most of the time when people ask you how you are they just want to hear “Fine, thank you, how are you?” but sometimes, sometimes, they’re digging for more. Sometimes “How are you?” means “How are you in the deepest core of your being these days? How is infertility? You’re not about to off yourself or anything, are you?” And I never know what people are getting at because they’re too discreet and respectful to just come out and ask, and so everything stays very surface and I don’t have much that’s ever “new” or “interesting” on the surface (not that I do deep down, either), and I mumble “Great, how are you?” and get very red in the face, and get confused, sympathetic looks in response and before I know it I’m cracking nervous butt jokes and wishing the earth would swallow me whole.
Bet you never knew how loaded those questions could be, did you?
So, in an effort to not be a Social Freakshow, here are some things that are “new”.
1. My car broke. Several weeks ago my faithful ’97 VW Jetta up and quit. Actually, it still runs, it just sounds like a helicopter. I drove it like that for a while, too, until one day the muffler fell off, well half-off, and that was it. I’ve never felt so classy as when I drove home for the last time in my rusted-out beater – helo-turbines roaring and raw metal screaming on the road. Combine that with our gold-bechunked front door that is slowly de-chunking, and we are by far the favorites on the block. We’re going to buy a new (used) car soon. I’m gunning for a station wagon because they’re neat.
2. Have begun bi-annual molt. I had just been congratulating myself on the non-shedness of my hair when it started again. This is Cisco’s favorite time of year. I spend all of dinner discreetly digging down the front of my shirt for rogue hairs that tickle like a mother (they’re from my HEAD, that’s clear right?), while he pulls them out of his mouth. He loves me so much. Snert doesn’t notice because dinner is his Soliloquy time, when he keeps up a very loud running monologue about everything from “fussling his teeth” to “having that feeling again – the one that there are animals in the house”. He does this all with a full mouth, prompting many gentle reminders to “Chew with your mouth closed”, all of which are ignored, until it’s time to wrap up dinner and start bargaining for dessert. I hear some families have conversations at the dinner table?
3. On impulse I bought black eye shadow so that I can finally try “smoky eyes”. This is one of my stupider ideas, as I’m terrible at eye make-up and have no occasion whatsoever on which to be smoky. That’ll be me, smoldering over the meat case at Aldi. Here’s a fine-looking tutorial if you’re interested. It’s already dead to me because the guy uses three indistinguishable brushes, and three whole different eyeshadows. I have one $2 eye shadow and the little poky foam thing that came with it. Should be super hot.
4. By the way, do not randomly surf make-up tutorials on youtube. You will run into things like this. Aaaaiiiiiieeeeeee!!!!
5. On Wednesday I attended a Healing Mass at the Shrine of Our Lady of Good Help, the site of the only Church-approved Marian Apparition in the US. I won’t attempt to write about the whole thing because I can’t. All I know is that it was profound, and Something happened. I’m still not sure what. I have renewed hope for miraculous healing of my body, and siblings for Snert. I prayed for healing for everyone. Kind of lame, but we’re supposed to pray like children, and when I make Snert say an intention he always prays “for everyone in the whole world,” the little over-achiever. So I prayed for everyone.
6. While at the library yesterday, in a fit of responsible parenting, I passed up the cartoons and checked out two nature movies for Snert. He opted for “Arctic Tale” because “When Dinosaurs Ruled” looked scary, and ended up losing his sh*% half way through when the baby polar bear died of starvation. Awesome. I should have stuck with “Gerald McBoing Boing”. Ironically, the movie about dinosaurs is a hit, probably because it’s narrated by Jeff Goldblum, of Jurassic Park fame. Whoever thought of that is a genius. Seriously, though, what kind of creep makes a kids’ movie, rated G, about how the cuddly wuddly baby polar bear learns all about survival in the wild by dying a hideous death?
7. Well, I think I’ve proved my point that, at any given moment, there is nothing new with me. What’s new with you? Oh, and I’m FINE.
8. Must add photos. Must take them first. Must get batteries for camera before that, or just new camera, or a pony.