You Know That One Time? When My Bra Broke?
We’re sitting at the Hat having dinner with the kids on Wednesday night when suddenly my bra breaks. You know when the under-wire part has just had enough of its heavy load and decides that this is it….I�m so over the whole bosom thing…..so it snaps? And dies? And leaves you out there hanging?
Well, being the entirely prudish, cool and collected mother that I am, I exclaimed loudly to the entire table and anyone else within a 20 foot radius, ‘Hey! My bra just broke! Dude!’ After which my face immediately turned red.
Now, I’ll go up to total strangers and tell them that my bra broke if I want to. I’ll go up to people in the laundry mat or train station of anywhere you can think of and ask them why they pierced their nose and attached a chain and does it hurt and does snot get caught in it and tell them about the time right after I had a baby when I walked down the hospital hallway from the bathroom and my mostly used pad fell down my leg and out on the floor because it didn’t have any sticky stuff on the bottom to keep it stuck on my panties and why are hospital people so dumb as to buy the same kind of sanitary napkin that I was forced to use growing up because my dad bought a year supply of the Stayfree brand with no sticky stuff and instead came with the little hook and belt thingy that lasted clearly longer than one year and probably close to 4 years.
So the blushing wasn’t because of the content of what I’d just said. That’s wasn’t it at all. The problem was that right after I said it, I realized that I couldn’t have stopped myself from saying it if I’d wanted to. I had no control over what popped out of my mouth. It was just like an unexpected bit of gas. And thank goodness it was my kids and husband and not Gwen Stefani. Or my boss. And who knows what else I’d say should the occasion call for it? That is why I turned red.
It’s not like a person can practice this kind of thing, either. You can’t unknowingly will your bra to break when you aren’t expecting it so you can practice not exclaiming things out loud. I’m concerned. Deeply concerned.
Let’s just hope that I don’t accidentally have my underwear explode or my shirt unbutton by itself (It could happen…I’ve seen that cologne commercial….) next time I’m in a meeting.
The Best Part
about living in the lap of complete strangers:
January 20th
Last night we were lucky enough to be in the front row of the most fabulous fight. It happened upstairs and a little to the left of our room.
Scenario: Jilted woman comes to yell at the jiltee =
Woman: Do you have a girl in there? DO YOU?
two-fisted bang bang bang
Man: muffled expletive through the door
Woman: You gave me herpes you [expletive]! How could you do this to me?
Woman: You [ expletive]! You [ expletive]! I can’t believe you gave me [expletive ] herpes!
Woman: You have a girl in there? What the [expletive ]? You [ expletive] gave me herpes!
Man: muffled yelling
Woman: Go on and tell that whore that you gave me herpes!
two fisted, earth shattering bang bang bang bang
Woman: Why do you keep hurting me like this? No one deserves to be hurt like this? How can youkeep hurting me you [expletive]?!?
Man: I just called the cops.
door slams
BANG BANG BANG
siren in the distance (for something else I’m sure, but it worked) running down the stairs
THEN, back at the ranch, at 6:15 this morning, she came again.
BANG BANG BANG
Woman: Wake up, you [expletive]! You gave me herpes!
…..and then for the man in North Dakota that didn’t hear yet…..
Woman: Why do you keep hurting me? Tell that girl you gave me herpes!
silence *crickets chirping*
Woman: Hey, you [expletive ]……
Woman: No one in their right mind would be with you!
pause and then quietly
Woman: Are you coming home later?
Back on Jan14th, 2005
Its been a great week.
Im working on the flash presentation for the Project at work. Ive been going through hours and hours worth of photos via the internet and looking for a particular kind of photo with a particular kind of feeling and only find them every once in awhile. In the meantime, I get/have to look at all these photos of the tsunami and Africas poverty. Its hard and taxing to the soul. But Im learning so much. For instance, the outpouring of love and support from the entire world for the tsunami victims is wonderful. Good on us for rising to the occasion. However, for the past 12+ years, over half a million people die from AIDS in south Africa every single year. EVERY year. If you do the math that is:
One time occurrence of a tsunami = 150,000+ with many children missing one or both parents
or
Africa = over 6 million+ people with many, many, MANY children missing one or both parents.
I don’t mean to take anything away from what the world has accomplished in helping the tsunami victims.
I just want to ask, what about my global family in Africa?
All About Bas
We have him back now but Bas got to holiday with Meg and Joe T over at the Toledo Day (and Night) Spa. They treated him so well and even rearranged the entire house to accommodate him. Dude. You can’t ask for better friends than that.
Thanx Meg and Joe and Homer and Patches…..
xo
WayBackTrip to January 7
I officially hate this hotel.
When we moved in I was all, �Oh, how cute is this? All this miss-matched craftsmen work? This weird bed? And they still have the Christmas wreaths on the doors. I love it here!� which has quickly turned into �Ohmyhellhowlongdowehavetobehereagain???�
Besides the colorful guests we have the pleasure of getting to know much more intimately than one ever should, we have crickets which I’m going to start charging for their stay in our room. Crickets are not the same thing as cockroaches so I�m not living in fear, only slight bemusement and disgust. They are some wild species of cricket. They have stripes on their legs and way longer antennas than any other kind I�ve seen. And they can only hop slightly and to the side. I think the family lives under the dresser. When it rained so hard the other night the mom, dad and two kids came out for a walk to see the wonderful downpour. I invited them right out the door with a swish of my shoe to get a closer look at the precipitation. They all stayed out there except one which came back in and then had to die. It�s the rule.
Additionally, the maid took a pair of my new-cheap-dripping-with-Wal-Mart-stench-black socks I had to go through so much to get. Joe laughs when I tell him but it’s true � the maid has stolen them. I�m sure she doesn’t think anyone will notice if you take a pair of socks. Socks disappear all the time and you just don’t know where they went. So it’s no big deal, right? People don�t know where their socks go to. Except me. I�m anal enough to know how many pairs of black socks I own especially if they are new ones that I had to buy from Wal-Mart. The maid also sets the shampoo bottle on the floor instead of back in the shower. Why does she do that? And how come when I get back to the room at night the bathroom light is always on? It�s all designed to slowly entice me into madness.
Backup to Date: January 2nd
My new job starts tomorrow. Joe is going to look again for a place to live while Im working. I wish we could buy a home right away but I guess renting a home close to the kids will have to work.
We went to the awefullest (yes, that’s a word) Wal-Mart that there ever was. I hate Wal-Mart to begin with. I think they treat their employees like crap and that they are winning the race to bring us to our knees surrounded by poorly made cheap crap, mostly imported, while self respecting people get put out of business 2 blocks away and that when they get to the finish line we’ll all be so sad that we live in a world where we helped the overlord take us to a hell made of generic inexpensive plastic items.
So, when we got a Wal-Mart gift card as a wedding present, we talked long and hard about the moral dilemma of going to an establishment we both despise or throwing away perfectly good money. We decided to spend the money but promised each other to feel morally superior to all the other people shopping in the store and feel sad and condescending to all the people who have to work there and keep a general distaste during the whole experience in the back of our mouths.
We bought a hotplate and some orange plastic dishes along with the cheapest, thinnest pot to boil eggs in that ever was made. I actually accidentally bent the side on the way to the checkout. It felt like thick tinfoil. Anyhoo, amid the crying, weeping and gnashing of teeth coming from the other patrons, (and who wouldn’t be gnashing their teeth?), Joe and I cut the list short and got out as fast as we could, kitchen wares in tow. And, I feel guilty even now thinking of how we supported the DemonStore punctuated with hundreds of little yellow smiley faces. But I boiled some eggs and I thought they were good. Does that make me a bad person?
and……she's BACK
I’ve missed out on telling you so many things. The best way to go about catching you up is to put up entries from my offline diary:
lackluster*date December 22:
I’m married.
This morning I woke up a married woman again.Three fears are as follows (in order of the depth of fear)
1. I’m going to call Joe by my ex-husbands name.
2. I’m going to keep calling Joe my boyfriend instead of my husband, correct myself, giggle and look like an idiot in general.
3. I’m never going to figure out how to write ‘Crawford’ at the end of my name and have it look right.
* I frequently like to make fun of the different meanings my name has. One such meaning is that Leah’s eyes were lacking luster.
Standing In
(The part of Leah will be played by Joe today)
So I’ve started my new job, it’s up in L.A.
I’m staying up there in a little motel with no good net access.
I love my new job.
Things are hard, but good.
Haiku 2005
I am so happy
Minutes into New Year’s Day
Glad to be alive.
Starting at this point
All things fresh and new to me.
This is my haiku.
