Pookie finally lost that baby tooth that’s been hanging on for dear life, by one straggly little thread. She was too much of a wimp to let her Mama pull it,which was a good thing because Mama is far too much of a wimp to be the tooth puller.

She carefully placed her tooth in it’s designated spot for the Tooth Fairy to retrieve, a little pillow with a tiny pocket crafted especially for this purpose.

The Tooth Fairy had a busy schedule last night. She watched a couple of episodes on the first disc of Season 3 of Weeds,which had been saved on her Netflix queue for months. She had a beer. She let some man whisk her away to the bedroom and have his way with her. Then, she fell fast asleep.

The alarm clock went off this morning,and The Tooth Fairy immediately knew she’d screwed up .The instant she opened her eyes,the first thought that popped into her head was,”Oh,fuck! The tooth thing!Gahhhrrr!”. She was hoping that perhaps,just maybe, the toothless little girl was still soundly asleep and she’d just arrive on the job a bit later than usual.

No such luck.

The Mama found a disappointed little Pookie with gaps in her mouth,holding her Tooth Fairy Pillow. “The Tooth Fairy…she didn’t take my tooth, or leave money. It’s fine if she doesn’t take the tooth but what’s with not leaving money?”

The Mama nodded sympathetically. “Yup, that Tooth Fairy….she’s one ditzy broad.”

The Pookie composed a note:

Dear Tooth Fairy,

Last night you didn’t come to git my tooth and so I am riting a letre for you.So you knoe ,I’m trying agin. My tooth is inside the tooth fary pilloe.

from,

The Pookie

The Tooth Fairy through some mysterious messaging system received the point of the letter loud and clear. The liberal sprinkling of guilt disguised as adorable sweetness did not go undetected.

The Tooth Fairy is not winning any Fairy of the Year Awards probably. Neither is The Mama, who had another close call with her 3 year old and traffic.

The good news: The Mama discovered that flowerpots made from record albums,when heated at high enough temps and squinched together properly, do not melt or even warp a little in the sunshine. She’s thankful for life’s little successes.

Does anyone want to see proof that I have no life?

100 Modern Classic Films

I was going to copy and paste and bold the ones I’ve seen but at the end of it all, I discovered I’ve seen all of them but 8.

The 8 I haven’t seen:
1.Crumb
2. Wings of Desire
3. The Player
4. The Truman Show (we own it…just never watched it)
5. The Lives of Others
6. All About My Mother
7. Waiting for Guffman
8. Menace II Society

So, if YOU have seen any of the 8 I have not, tell me whether or not I should go through the trouble of watching it and completing my Movie List Zen.

Tonight I’m watching The Other Boleyn Girl. The rather odd thing is, stories about Anne Boleyn and Mary Boleyn keep popping up in my life recently. I’ve never found myself too terribly interested in either of them but I’m taking it as a sign that I’m supposed to be.

Weekly Geeks #9 is thankfully, Challenges. The assignment is to organize all those reading challenges or to sign up for one (or even more,because we all need more books on our To Read List).

I made a page just for my reading challenge lists here and I joined another challenge...The Young Adult Challenge 2008. I figured with the large amount of books I read along with the twins, this would be a good one to do jointly. So, the books we chose are all ones at least one of them had an interest in reading. This will also help with their book list for the Summer Reading Program they’re doing through our library

(on a sidenote, the library has a list of recommended books that I was not even a little bit impressed with)

I’m also debating joining The Orange Prize Project ,since it’s a goal of mine to read those books anyway. It’s daunting,though.That’s a lot of books to read,you know. It helps that it’s a perpetual challenge with no time limit . Yeah…I should just go do that.

I finally got around to writing that silly About Me page on my sidebar. I’m not very good at writing about myself ,as a whole. I prefer to take little bits and pieces ,one at a time, so they can be expanded and elaborated upon.

I gave up at the end ,with the statement “Music,books,art and film feed my soul.”, and realized I could write endlessly about just those things and what place they hold in my life.

I didn’t even cover religion,politics,sexuality,my fucked-up childhood,knitting or my favorite color!

I’ll work on including those things later,perhaps.Right now,I need to go freak out about the fact that my oldest kid is going to graduate from high school in 4 days.

Dear Radio DJ,
You woke me up this morning announcing that it was one of the DeBarge’s birthday and thought we all should celebrate by listening to “Rhythm of the Night”. #1: Don’t ever play that song as my alarm clock is set to go off again. Never ever. #2: Google says that there is no DeBarge having a birthday today. Not only are you wrong, but you annoyed the snot out of me first thing in the morning.I know it’s not your fault that I went to bed way late because some drunk guy smashed into a parked car in front of my house and there was a big hullabaloo, but there it is. I’m sleep-deprived and not in the mood for your crap first thing in the morning. Did you know that George Carlin died? How about waking me up with some George Carlin stuff? That would be better.

Thanks muchly,
80’s Survivor Who Doesn’t Want To Relive Parts of It
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Dear Mr & Mrs Raccoon,
Hey,there. Is this a good time to chat? I’m just making sure because whenever I see you and yell at you as you’re feasting on my garbage outside, you kind of act like I’m disturbing you. You act like my garbage is some cozy little cafe you’ve chosen to have a nice romantic dinner in the window seat and I’m the rude pedestrian, walking by gawking at you through the window.

So,anyway…listen. The wind blew the lid to my garbage can away but that doesn’t mean you can just help yourself. You made a huge mess and guess who has to clean it up? Well, not you,that’s for sure. You guys just get to spend your days making heartwarming You Tube videos and sneaking into LOLCat pictures..Me? I don’t do either. I just get to clean up your mess.Thanks a bunch.

And did you guys smell that garbage before digging in? I question your culinary tastes. That stuff is nasty. Here’s a hint: the only food related stuff that ends up in the garbage instead of the compost is meat products. Nasty,stinky,gross,probably-maggoty-by-now meat. That is soooooo gross.Judging by your big fat waddly butts, you aren’t too terribly picky about your menu selection.

Sincerely,
Cafe Management
———————————————————————————————————–
Dear Slugs and Snails,
Fuck off and die,ok? I’m not Oswald. I have no intention of buying extra tomato plants and opening a restaurant just for your slimy little asses. I’m not that nice. Can you sing like the little guys in Flushed Away? If you could sing, that might be something and I might allow you a nibble here and there but until you come up with some talent other than being slimy and disgusting, you need to go away and eat someone else’s plants.

And what’s the deal with all those slug control tricks? Hasn’t anyone told you about them? Here’s how it works: I lay out traps filled with a yeasty solution or beer. You go in them and stay there instead of having dinner. I sprinkle a solution with coffee grounds all over the place. You crawl in it and get neurotoxined to death. I put eggshells around the plants. You don’t bother sliming over them because they’re pricky and owwie against your oh-so-delicate underbellies. Why don’t you seem to know these things? Are you stupid?

You need to go away,that’s all there is to it. I think the neighbors might start complaining if I stand outside in the morning again yelling,”Fuck off,you slimy little fucks!Just fuck off and DIIIIEEEE!”.

Best wishes,
The Sluginator

• I love Coco Wang’s China 5.12 Earthquake Strips. Emotionally moving and wonderfully done. (Click on the comic to enlarge and view full size to read). I cried lots (but I also laughed,too).

• Beck posted a lovely memorial tribute to Tasha Tudor

• I believe that Davka Deer Girl and Hobo Stripper are 2 of my most favorite blogs ever ever ever.

• Snatched from Summer on Twitter

Friends don’t let friends Twitter Drunk.

I keep drunk Twittering to a minimum. If you’d like to follow me as I tackle endless piles of laundry and other boring things,you may.

• It’s really too bad my little wedding/handfasting budget is $29.99. Buzzbee the Robot Bee Groom and Buzz Bride wedding cake topper would be perfect sitting on top of our wedding cake
• The lesson here: Don’t throw things at Josh Homme.Well, don’t throw things at anyone when they’re on stage.That’s just rude. If you want to get his attention, a tit flash would probably work. If you don’t have tits, just enjoy the show,duh.

We perused the Tantra Chair website last night, building a chair to our taste and specifications. As a sign of how old and falling-apart I am, I oohed and aahed looking at the sexual positions guide ,not because I was excited about the sexual possibilities but because “Damn, those arches look like they’d be really comfortable and give great back support!”.

We decided the Tantra Chair is the result of what happens when Kama Sutra-reading engineers are bored and horny.

We looked at the price tag and coughed. Maybe next year’s tax return or better yet, when the kids are gone. If we had that in our house right now, it would just be seen as a neat thing to climb on.

Bob looked at me and joked, “Hey, you’re the Queen of Thrift Whore Scores. Maybe you’ll pick one up at a yard sale this summer.”

There’s something about the idea of picking up a used sex chair at a yard sale that’s kind of ewwwwwww-inspiring.

I dreamed of Walmart. It’s been nearly 7 years since I’ve even stepped foot in a Walmart, yet in the dream I knew the layout of the store like the back of my hand. I navigated past islands of clothing and aisles of housewares and made my way to the bins with fabric remnants. I leaned over and inhaled the stacks of material with plaids and sunflowers. They smelled of stale cigarette smoke and even staler cheap perfume, even though they were brand new. This detail is thanks to a box of fabric scored in real life from a woman at a yard sale who informed me that “All those fabric bits, they came from Wal-Mart. I just ain’t never gotten around to using them at all. I don’t do much sewing anymore.” She was a sweetheart but the fabric smelled and I had to wash the entire box before it was put away,safe and sound with the rest of my fabric stash.

Standing among bolts of fabric was the boy I saw of the news, abandoned in the fabric department of a Wal-mart. I cannot get his face out of my head. His scared hungry eyes staring at the camera, wondering where Mommy went to.

When I watch the news, I involve everyone within earshot. Bush’s latest dumbass move, endless tragedy in Africa, the wrath of Mother Nature, Hugo Chavez’s instability,found severed feet,salmonella outbreaks,breached levees….I provide running commentary so everyone is in the know,even if they don’t want to be.

“Oh,my god…look at that poor little guy! He was abandoned at a Walmart,with a note from his mother saying she couldn’t take care of him.Honey,can we………..”

I was cut-off  mid-sentence and got my reply before I even asked,”NO, we’re not adopting him.”

“But…he’s from Guatemala.”, I offered as a reason. It seemed like a perfectly logical reasoning all on it’s own.

“Don’t we have enough kids from Central America already?”

Well, no. Not really. Those 2 we have are already adults and moving on with their lives. Besides, Little Martin on the News is only 2. Finally I’d have someone to converse with in Spanish who speaks the language just as well (poorly) as I do. I’m not exaggerating. Four years of high school Spanish,living with a fluent Spanish speaker and kids with Spanish as their native tongue have done nothing for me. They laugh at me and call me a gringa. Affectionately, of course.

It goes deeper than language,this desire to take into my home a child abandoned in a Wal-mart. It comes from the feeling that I know he was left out of love and that it was the hardest decision that woman had to make. I’ve seen hard times in my life. I’ve lived through hungry times, times where I gave what little food I had to the kids and went hungry myself. When you weigh 89 pounds so that you’re kids don’t go to bed hungry, you start to think of options to get yourself out of hell and make sure your kids have a better life than what you’re giving them.

Hard times have taught me many things. Resourcefulness,resiliency,strength,determination. Most of all, they’ve taught me to never forget where I’ve been and given me the ability to walk in other people’s shoes easily and without judgment. Some may call her crazy ,but if you can imagine being left alone to care for a child when you have no skills,resources and aptitude of the native tongue and probably do not have legal immigrant status, choices probably seemed pretty limited.

She didn’t leave the kid in the Wal-mart parking lot, where bad things tend to happen or sell him like a baby tiger cub . She left him in the fabric department, where the likelihood of a maternal being finding him was the greatest.I can’t believe it was a completely motherless act. It was an abandonment bred from abandoned hope.

Then again, I’m a totally altruistic fool.

If this story were to have an ending I scripted, Martin’s mother would be found.A  generous and kind individual would take them both in, help her attain legal status and the practical skills and education she needs to be self-reliant and provide for herself and Martin. Martin would grow up and achieve great success. He’ll buy his Mama a house .His spare time and money will be spent building schools and health clinics in Guatemala, as well as helping provide assistance for immigrants and their families in the US.

Alternate ending I can live with: The foster family he’s placed with embraces him and his culture as their own and eventually adopt him. When he grows up,he’s not angry at his mother for abandoning him. He’s thankful she helped him find opportunity and strives to help other’s find the same.

End of story.

I just noticed that an increasingly popular query on my blog stat counter is from people looking for help on DIY Nipple Piercings.

I have one question: Are you people INSANE?

It ranks up there with a DIY circumcision. I understand…you just want your penis to look like Jesus’, but I still do not advise it. Self-mutilation should always be done with the help of a professional.

I woke up to the strangest e-mail this morning from a fellow blogger.Do you call women Fellows? It doesn’t sound right but I’m using the term anyway.

Apparently,this other blogger hates me with a passion. It’s only because she believes me to be a rather skanky individual she knows from Real Life (you know..that place that exists off the computer? Visit it from time to time.You’ll like it), so I forgive her.

This presumed Real Life version of me has been guilty of not keeping her hands to herself and has even on occasion stuck her tongue down the throat of Fellow Blogger’s Boyfriend.She also likes to put her hands down his pants and stalk Fellow Blogger via Myspace. She also happens to live in Upstate New York, which sadly, is where my home is too.

This is simple a case of Mistaken Internet Identity,I swear. I’m just some bitch who blogs,not a bitch who blogs and steals boyfriends. My non-blogging life consists of juggling 5 kids while trying to “work” at home,even if my work is something my mother always told me I could never make a living doing (she was wrong).I don’t really have time to steal boyfriends. Generally, I keep my hands and tongue to myself unless asked nicely. I also spend much more time at Facebook than Myspace and I don’t use either as stalking tools.

So,that was an interesting way to start the day.

Yesterday I scared the hell out of people on various social networking sites I frequent by posting a link titled “Why I’m Voting Republican!”. I got replies such as “Oh,my God…not YOU! Please say it’s not true.” and just simply ‘WHAT.THE.FUCK.?!”. Some were sure I’d been abducted by aliens and replaced with a Walmart-shopping,non-recycling,SUV-driving,fast-food-gorging Republican who finally found God (*shudder*) . These were people who hadn’t followed the trusty little link provided.Silly people. Don’t freak out until you have watched the video:

Somewhere out there,there is a skanky grabby whore who spends lots of time on Myspace and votes Republican. Beware.