Good God! I've posted something!
Last Thursday, Jack came home with a lovely box for me:
He insisted I open it right then. I want to wait for Christmas! I shouted. He insisted yet again, and more insistently. I resisted. But he insisted so consistently that he silenced my resistance.
The only way to get back at him at this point was to open the box really slowly and take pictures every step of the way.
God, he hated me so much right then. And my blog. My fucking blog and the things I blog about.
And yet, I have to say, Jack has finally figured out my taste. It only took ten years. This is perfect.
He had been confident enough that I'd like the candlestick that he had gone ahead ordered another one, and so the next day we went to the Upper Village in Montecito to get it. Imagine a strip mall that sells silk granny panties . . .
. . . and second-hand Cartier tiaras, and there you go: you're in Oprah's neighborhood now, baby. Did I tell you that when Jack's mom was up in September we took her to lunch at the Garden Cafe on Santa Claus Lane and Stedman Graham was at the next table, having lunch by himself? I bet he spends a lot of time eating alone, because god knows if your girlfriend is Oprah you can't just drag her over to Spudnuts and spread out with the Sunday paper.
Anyway, the store where we got the candlesticks had this in the window:
It's the pumpkin witch of winter solstice! Take that, you Christmas-loving bastards, it's a pagan holiday anyway! I don't know, that's what The Patriarch told me, and I believe everything he tells me because if I don't he'll kick my ass. In a strange and wonderful confluence of Web linkage I am now linking both him and I Blame The Patriarchy. Maybe we can arrange a head-to-head blogging bash-up just to see who comes out looking the prettiest. And I mean "prettiest" in the Muhammed Ali sense of the word.
So, we shelled out for the second candlestick and then walked up to the Montecito Village Grocery for some dinner stuff. This place is like a little mom-and-pop time capsule. It's a thousand years old, they still deliver, and they know what their customers are looking for:
PORK AND BEANS.
Also, this:
See that six dollar box of pasta? Know why we bought it? Besides the fact that it's fucking great pasta? Because they're strozzapreti -- "priest stranglers." Legend has it some Italian nuns used this particular shape of pasta to fill up a particularly gluttonous priest so there's be some roast beef left for everyone else, or there's another story about the priest eating so much of them that he choked. Either way, those nuns, huh? What a bunch of kidders! I wonder if they made any Pope stranglers? I'd buy a box of that.
Then, Friday was Katie's first birthday! Hooray, Katie! So when Jack got home he made himself a mojito and took her for a stroll.
They were looking for Tyson, who's another bulldog on our block.
Tyson used to have some big swinging balls on him until his owner neutered him a couple of months ago. Now Tyson seems a wee bit depressed. Katie always cheers him up by gnawing on his face for awhile, and Jackson had tried to arrange a playdate with him for Katie's birthday. But Tyson stood her up! Now we're thinking about leaving a flaming bag of Katie's poo on his doorstep. Because Katie doesn't get played like that.
Anyway, I forgot to take a picture of it but Jack made a bitchin' cheesecake using the Carnegie Deli recipe. We decided to call it Katie's birthday cake, and Jackson blew out the candle for her. After we sang to her and showed her her card from Grandma:
Check out the inside:
Can you see that? She wrote, Katie, now you are 1 on it. HILARIOUS. Gee, do you think my family subconsciously wants me to burp out another child? I have a very special message for them: Until Satan starts serving ice water in Hell we'll just keep treating our dog like a silent, fur-covered human being. Or until the dear Blue Fairy flutters through our window and makes it so.
Saturday, we heard about this, and we thought it would be a good time to watch this:
Sunday, I put up some lights in Jackson's room:
Monday, Leah posted an interview with me over at her site, so you can go over there and read some astounding facts about me! Or not, by this point you've probably had enough of me. But besides the fact that Leah is awfully nice, she lets you do interviews by e-mail and then take your own picture.
I wish I had some satisfying way to tie this all together but I've been trying to put this goddamned post together for SIX DAYS NOW. I am fresh out of breezy conclusions! Have a nice weekend.
Last Thursday, Jack came home with a lovely box for me:
He insisted I open it right then. I want to wait for Christmas! I shouted. He insisted yet again, and more insistently. I resisted. But he insisted so consistently that he silenced my resistance.
The only way to get back at him at this point was to open the box really slowly and take pictures every step of the way.
God, he hated me so much right then. And my blog. My fucking blog and the things I blog about.
And yet, I have to say, Jack has finally figured out my taste. It only took ten years. This is perfect.
He had been confident enough that I'd like the candlestick that he had gone ahead ordered another one, and so the next day we went to the Upper Village in Montecito to get it. Imagine a strip mall that sells silk granny panties . . .
. . . and second-hand Cartier tiaras, and there you go: you're in Oprah's neighborhood now, baby. Did I tell you that when Jack's mom was up in September we took her to lunch at the Garden Cafe on Santa Claus Lane and Stedman Graham was at the next table, having lunch by himself? I bet he spends a lot of time eating alone, because god knows if your girlfriend is Oprah you can't just drag her over to Spudnuts and spread out with the Sunday paper.
Anyway, the store where we got the candlesticks had this in the window:
It's the pumpkin witch of winter solstice! Take that, you Christmas-loving bastards, it's a pagan holiday anyway! I don't know, that's what The Patriarch told me, and I believe everything he tells me because if I don't he'll kick my ass. In a strange and wonderful confluence of Web linkage I am now linking both him and I Blame The Patriarchy. Maybe we can arrange a head-to-head blogging bash-up just to see who comes out looking the prettiest. And I mean "prettiest" in the Muhammed Ali sense of the word.
So, we shelled out for the second candlestick and then walked up to the Montecito Village Grocery for some dinner stuff. This place is like a little mom-and-pop time capsule. It's a thousand years old, they still deliver, and they know what their customers are looking for:
PORK AND BEANS.
Also, this:
See that six dollar box of pasta? Know why we bought it? Besides the fact that it's fucking great pasta? Because they're strozzapreti -- "priest stranglers." Legend has it some Italian nuns used this particular shape of pasta to fill up a particularly gluttonous priest so there's be some roast beef left for everyone else, or there's another story about the priest eating so much of them that he choked. Either way, those nuns, huh? What a bunch of kidders! I wonder if they made any Pope stranglers? I'd buy a box of that.
Then, Friday was Katie's first birthday! Hooray, Katie! So when Jack got home he made himself a mojito and took her for a stroll.
They were looking for Tyson, who's another bulldog on our block.
Tyson used to have some big swinging balls on him until his owner neutered him a couple of months ago. Now Tyson seems a wee bit depressed. Katie always cheers him up by gnawing on his face for awhile, and Jackson had tried to arrange a playdate with him for Katie's birthday. But Tyson stood her up! Now we're thinking about leaving a flaming bag of Katie's poo on his doorstep. Because Katie doesn't get played like that.
Anyway, I forgot to take a picture of it but Jack made a bitchin' cheesecake using the Carnegie Deli recipe. We decided to call it Katie's birthday cake, and Jackson blew out the candle for her. After we sang to her and showed her her card from Grandma:
Check out the inside:
Can you see that? She wrote, Katie, now you are 1 on it. HILARIOUS. Gee, do you think my family subconsciously wants me to burp out another child? I have a very special message for them: Until Satan starts serving ice water in Hell we'll just keep treating our dog like a silent, fur-covered human being. Or until the dear Blue Fairy flutters through our window and makes it so.
Saturday, we heard about this, and we thought it would be a good time to watch this:
Sunday, I put up some lights in Jackson's room:
Monday, Leah posted an interview with me over at her site, so you can go over there and read some astounding facts about me! Or not, by this point you've probably had enough of me. But besides the fact that Leah is awfully nice, she lets you do interviews by e-mail and then take your own picture.
I wish I had some satisfying way to tie this all together but I've been trying to put this goddamned post together for SIX DAYS NOW. I am fresh out of breezy conclusions! Have a nice weekend.
44 Comments:
I'm still laughing about the priest stranglers!!! That was a great post! Love all the pictures, and of course, your witty wit witterness from witterville. :)
Love the photo posts. They are entertaining! With PICTURES!
And Jackson's lights look pretty.
God. I just love you SO MUCH!
I wish you were my neighbor.
I've been looking forward to a new post for days!!!
BIG SWINGING BALLS! Were they "schweaty balls"? Poor thing.
Happy weekend, Mrs. Kennedy.
I'm glad you did that interview, I hadn't read about Eric yet, and I'm glad I did.
The box and bow were so great, I don't think I would have cared what was in the box. I'm a sucker for packaging.
Never tell my children your child has lights in his room. I'm far too lazy to tack up a string of lights. Writing this has made tired. Naptime.
I think you will like this. A lot.
http://www.karineriksson.se/blog/index.php?p=402
i totally read your mom's message on the card as "you are now I".
in austin, one of the giant supermarkets (i'm fairly certain it was an HEB, which stands for 'h.e. butt', no lie) had a hanging placard for fried onions, similar to your pork & beans pictured here.
on the topic of grocery stores, wanna see something creepy? http://www.luckyhazel.com/wish/archives/001430.shtml that's my neighborhood grocery in advance of hurricane rita, when it still looked like houston was up for a direct hit.
i love katie's lower jaw. CX is currently experimenting with a similar jaw posture. i keep telling him his face will freeze like that, but 19-month-olds never believe anything like that.
Love the candle stick. Couldn't he have made one himself with some welding gear though? LOL
I also like the idea of the poop on the door step for standing Katie up...although Tyson might just enjoy it. Hmmmmmm.......
Pope stranglers - isn't that what the catholic drug mules call the little condom pellets filled with Ortho Tri-cyclen tablets that they sneak into Vatican City?
A novel! So cool...Can I say I knew you before you got famous...or back when you were only semi-semi-famous.
Ah, the illusory power of the internet. I know you! I just found out your first name!
The Eric story always chokes me up.
--Miel
the candle sticks=awesome.
I would never wear your shoes, but I would totally light candles with you.
Also, I am so into date breaking revenge. Flaming bag of poop? Excellent idea.
Your dog has a permanent "please kill me" expression, which cracks me up. I'd recommend plastering this place with pics of her.
And you are wise to take my word for it. You can't argue with the Patriarchy.
That was a cool post (and interview.) No final tidiness needed.
Oh MAN you'd have loved this mirror my ex hubby and I had.
An artist friend of ours bought an old armoire door with a mirror. She smashed a bunch of colorful plates, twisted up a myriad of silverware, and stuck 'em all around the mirror with grout. Then we hoisted the thing up, horizontally, and hung it behind the bar in our restaurant.
If I can find a pic I'll send it.
Belated B-day wishes to Katie Kennedy.
From: Her Pug readers in Illinois
Early Holiday wishes to the Fussy Family.
From: A human who enjoys reading here a great deal. :)
Happy Birthday Katie! Also my sister would LOVE those candlesticks. Does that store have a website? Now off to read the interview.
Although I am smitten with your candlesticks (and I surely am)-- I am most fixated on the image (and its corresponding sensation) of walking the dog on a warm evening with a mojito in hand--- Elizabeth
http://bluepoppy.omworks.com
LOVING the pics of Jack and Katie and the candlestick! 10 years, huh? I'll look forward to it!
And I'm a Christian, but Yup, VERY doubtful that Jesus was born in the dead of winter. "Shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night"--out in the fields, and all that. Also? No magi AT the manger. Drives me nuts. Anyway, much easier to appropriate pagan dates as your own. Hence, "April Fools."
Can you please tell your husband you hate the candlesticks and send them to me? You still have my address from the shirt order, right?
I love that candlestick holder and the lights in Jackson's room. Glad you posted.
Im totally jealous of Jackson's lights. I so want to do that now. I also loved the wrapped gift. So pretty!
Love the candle stick!
I can't see any pictures, what gives?
Just title it "random thoughts" and call it a day. And I want those candle sticks. If I can't have them, I may have to get some sort of welding stuff (not even sure what that would be) and make my own.
BTW, I wore my new red Fussy t-shirt last night to our holiday party (we're crazy liberals waging war on Christmas, you know) and my boobs did look bigger!
hello.
I am glad you are writing a novel.
I enjoyed the interview and re-reading the post about Eric.
That is a superb piece of writing, Mrs. Kennedy.
mrs. kennedy, will you please come be my neighbour? or, a la mister rogers: won'tchya be my neighbour? because i like you. and i don't mean to gush. it's not my way. but dammit woman, you're my kind of people.
also, please tell oprah hello from me.
what a fabulous post. and i agree with coolbeans about the packaging. if my husband gave me gifts that came like that, we wouldn't be getting a divorce. (well, not really.)
I'd love to see the link from "take your own picture", however, Flickr is apparently out getting a massage:
Flickr Logo
Flickr is having a massage.
Please visit the Flickr Blog
if you'd like to look at some photos.
Oh well! Great writing, once again!
The candlestick is sublime. Sublime, I tell you! As is your palm tree lined neighborhood.
This was a rich and heady post, Mrs. K. I am satisfied in a post-Thanksgiving Dinner way. I will now recline for my L-tryptophan-in-the-turkey induced nap.
That pumpkin witch of winter solstice is awesome. My husband and I read this yesterday and spent the afternoon chuckling over it. Then we ran into his ultra catholic mom that night, who said, "what do you think about this taking the Christ out of Christmas?"... I was so tempted to give her the fuckchristmas.org link, but I resisted.
I liked your interview. I feel like we have so much in common--when I read that you hate poverty and disease, it was as if I were LOOKING IN THE MIRROR. I too hate poverty! AND disease!
I hate to be the one to mention this, but I think you accidentally chronicled an act of domestic violence in your picture. My recommendation is to just pretend you did it on purpose, like "Ha, ha, look, it's a joke."
That candlestick is simultaneously the most beautiful and the weirdest thing I've seen today. Yesterday it was Andy Serkis in King Kong. Who knows what it will be tomorrow?
I love this post. It was well worth the six-day wait.
I really enjoyed your post especially winter Solstice Witch and the strozzapreti one.
I sent my sister in England a link to the post as she is married to an Anglican Priest. I told her to be sure and not buy any when they are in Rome. (grin) I do like my brother-in-law.
Nice interview! I read Kristin Lavransdatter a few years ago. Weee! Now I can say that Fussy and I like the same books.
Eden:
You're on the front cover of today's SF CHRON. CONGRATS!!
Bob L
CA '82
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2005/12/19/BUG07G9CT61.DTL&hw=fussy&sn=001&sc=1000
that candlestick is one of the most beautious things i've ever fucking seen.
seriously. where can i get that, man? NEED. IT.
I really love that candlestick. Your man has good taste.
You know you're in polite society when you can make yourself a mojito and take the dog for a stroll. That's living!
Thanks for the cheesecake recipe. My husband and I just got back from a week at a hotel just kittycorner from the Carnegie Deli, where we enjoyed pastrami omelettes and actual real live cheesecake, which I'd never had much of an appreciation for. Now I know what to make for New Year's dinner!
Holy crap, I was going to write and say "you know somebody spot-welded some old silverware into a pile and called it a candlestick" but then there's like 100 people drooling over the candlestick so I thought better of it and instead I'm on my way to Home Depot to get me a welder.
The candlesticks are a blast, Katie is adorable on her first birthday and just how warm is it? Outside walking with a mojito... after a month of snow & cold those palm trees look wonderful.
Do you really really really think Stedman is Oprah's boyfriend? I mean, if you read any gossip at all and it seems you do...I think Gayle is doing most of the heavy lifting.
Why don't you tell Katie to suggest Tyson to ask his owner for "Neuticles"??
Please, take your time to check this...
http://www.neuticles.com/
Quote: "We feel the removal of a God given body part - leaving a male pet looking unwhole after the traditional form of neutering is not only unethical but unnatural. With Neuticles it's like nothing ever changed."
ARGH.
Post a Comment
<< Home