Freakshow

So, last night at 9:30PM I decide to run up to Krogers for sushi. This newer obsession is almost out of control. Michael had just gone the night before to get me some from there. The night before that we had some at Benihanna's. Michael tells me where to go upon entering the store, because it was sort of hidden and took him a while to find. I tell him I think I've seen it there in passing and I remember where. He gives me directions anyway. I walk inside and start laughing at the sign hanging from the ceiling labeled "sushi". See picture to the left. Yes, I got out my camera to snap a pic, I couldn't resist. I keep waiting to get ill from eating too much of it, but so far so good, if anything, I feel better. My friend said, "you guys are going to get sick from buying sushi anywhere. You are going to start getting it at 7/11 or Racetrac". The very thought makes my stomach knot up. I have a sensitive one so any visual a little gross can get me choking back vomit.
Did I mention I hear one of my favorite songs in the whole world "electric avenue" while grocery shopping? I don't know about you, but that is usually a sign that God is with you, that the angels are on your side and all of the stars are aligned in your favor. I might have a different way of viewing the world, but its a positive one. However, when I hear a terrible Terry Clark song, i.e "poor poor pitiful me", usually in a stop-n-go in a small town between here and Dallas, well I can't help but ask, what did I do that is so wrong that I have to hear this song? I'm a good person, a great mother, an attentive wife who pretends to enjoy stories about computer programming and golf, I am basically a saint- is it too much to ask that I never hear that manly voice from that womanly brute, Terry Clark? Heres the deal, I had one of her cds in 11th grade, I liked one song but quickly grew to dislike the rest. I gave country music a fair, fighting chance in my dark world-- a few won my affection, but most became coasters in my first apartment. When CD Warehouse wanted nothing to do w/ my Terry Clark or Mindy McCready cds, I had to simply toss them out. Even our local dumpster diver (Juan?) didn't think he could get money for them (even hobos have standards). I used to wait for him- Juan (that is my name for him), I got high off of setting junk out on the curb and waiting and watching from my second floor window seat. Miss B would ask, "what is that man doing?"
"Well honey, he is taking my old Nine West shoes to a swap meet"
This became such a regular thing that I quit hiding inside. Before too long we were almost friends. I'd just waive him hello while he dug through my junk. I am sure he went ape with my last scavenger hunt I left for him when we moved from NRH.
I don't think I can do that here. I think the Home owners assoc. would have me hung at the next town meeting.

It is Monday, I've been so productive that I think I'll give myself the rest of the day off. Just to give you the low down on my day and make the other SAHMs jealous- I have cleaned my kitchen, done 5 loads of laundry, worked out (a decent one this time), vacuumed, cleaned my bedroom, trimmed outside plants, gathered trash AND recycling- as a result my children never got dressed today- but they've watched Christmas Barney 3 times and Happily Ever After once and a Micky Mouse special once. This is what Mondays are about.

And, now, another quote from Grace Notes- "It is what I have done with where I have been that should be of interest"- Georgia O'Keeffe

Perfect! Especially for me, who finds new reasons to love my new environment, who looks to 2008 with open arms, bring it on, I have fighting words for the sufferer inside.

Your loyal sushi lover,
Candycane