I MUST BE HUNTED!!

There just isn’t enough Purell and soap in the world. I am buried in a mountain of ick and baby slobber. Dear G-d, please help me.

In the meantime. There’s this. The Prospect Park 5M Turkey Trot! I have run these before, both as pilgrim and native american princess, (my somewhat off kilter grandmother SWEARS we are part Cherokee!!) but I have never, ever, run it dressed as a TURKEY!!

I mean, I see them all of the time. There are WILD turkeys on Staten Island that live at the grounds of the mental health center, so I feel a certain “crazy kinship” with these birds.

All I need is for someone to FOLLOW ME WITH A MUSKET! OR AN AXE!! We can make it a light musket. I’m an actor, I’m versed in props, I MUST BE HUNTED. Wow, that sounds both creepy AND sexual. What can I say? It’s a gift.

I was thinking like this!!

 

Can you picture it? We’d be the most awesome humans alive, AND, we will have burned somewhere around 600 calories. BRING ON THE PIE, BITCHES!

Favorite Pie at Thanksgiving?
It would be like choosing my favorite child or eyeball. Pecan, Sweet Potato, Pumpkin, i love them all.

Favorite savory dish?
MASHED PO-FREAKING-TATOES!!!

Cover him in a burlap sack and make him live in a tent.

My son is quite possibly the sweetest, cutest, most loving, most disgusting pile of ick on the planet right now.

He has a cold. This makes him at once adorable, cuddly, sweet, and nas-tay. I literally want to hug him within an inch of his breath, or put him in a bubble attached to a nose frida.

He has gone through so many tissues, that his tissue bucket looks like Slimer got in a no-holds barred grudge match with every single “Scooby Doo” sheet-covered man ghost and landed in a tupperware of doom.

Today is the kind of day that I wish I lived in a place where I could pitch a tent in the backyard and send the cop and the captain out to sleep in it until this goes away.

Don’t feel bad for THEM!! I am SURE they would do the same to me for 4 days a month.

“Here Mama, here’s your laptop and your chips and your chocolate, see you in a week!”

There is only one remedy for this particular situation.

Mommy makes homemade chicken noodle soup plots to run away. Literally. RUN away. (for about an hour.)

you know you’re feeling better already.

Magic Soup

  • 1 ORGANIC chicken 4lbs (give or take)
  • 2 bay leaves
  • 15 grinds of pepper
  • 1 whole bunch of parsley
  • 7 carrots
  • 1 lg yellow onion
  • one bunch celery
  • one head of garlic
  • kosher salt
  • half of a bag of whole wheat egg noodles
  • 2 T EVOO

Roughly chop 3 carrots, 3-4 stalks of celery, and onion. Cut head of garlic in half. Place chicken in DEEP stockpot. Add chopped celery, carrot, onion, and garlic. Top with 2T salt, pepper, half of the bunch of parsley, and bay leaves. JUST cover with cold water. Only submerge, don’t drown it, it’s not your feelings, it’s a chicken. Bring to a boil and boil 2-3 minutes, back it down to LOW and simmer 1.5 HOURS.

At the end of the simmer period, pull out chicken and set aside to cool. Strain broth into another pot. Give your dog the carrots, you’ll have one happy bitch. Finish peeling and chopping the remainder of the carrots, celery, and parsley.

Heat evoo in the stock pot on med-high. Add chopped carrots and celery into evoo and sautee one or two minutes, add a tiny bit more salt. TINY bit. Add parsley. Pour in broth and warm it slowly. Pick the chicken off of the bones and add to broth and veg. Add noodles and cook until tender. BOOM! You just fixed your life. You’re welcome, America.

What do you CRAVE when you’re sick?

I am an odd slovak hillbilly. I want tomatoes and dumplings and paprikash

Do you have any odd rituals when you’re sick?

I take about a thousand showers and drink a crapton of tea. And then I shower again.

Booze and Cigarettes

That will be $2.25.

My husband has officially turned into an old man.

Do you remember going to a museum with active exhibits, and your dad or Grandpa just wanted to watch all of the movies explaining whatever the hell the exhibit was about?

This has become Tim. We went to the NYC Transit Museum. This is a museum with AN ENTIRE DOUBLE PLATFORM OF TRAINS just waiting for Elijah to GO FRIGGEN CRAZY on them, and there is Tim, watching a video about how the MTA processes its money each day. This would be like taking me to a winery and watching a video on corks when there is a tasting going on 50 feet away. LET ME GET MY WINE ON!!! I wouldn’t give a damn about corks and Elijah didn’t give a damn about the fact that “the MTA processes more money in one day than some countries!” We know that. They take our money. Every.Damn.Day. Let the kid play conductor. The kid who runs around all day saying “TIME TUNNEL, NEXT STOP, TARANADON STATION!!” He’s slightly obsessed with “Dinosaur Train.”

DWT-Driving While Toddler.

Having an active but relaxing weekend is pretty much my favorite thing to do. A walk around the best borough on earth with my three faves, and a trip to a museum that my son thinks was designed just for him? (And every other little boy on the planet of NYC?-yes, we’re our own planet. Brooklyn is the command center-we have lightsabers made of awesome) It was SO much fun. This picture makes Tim’s belly look way bigger than it is. I have no idea why.

He likes me more than what he looks like here. It was an old train, there was WAY more to do than hang with me.

And then? A little idea.

I SHOULD GO BLONDE. Or not. You know. Whatevs.

The ads in the train were the BEST part. So much booze and so many smokes. Kents, anyone? Salems? No. Camels. They’re for the real men.

A Down Home, White Trash Spectacular.

Everyone is getting hitched. I’ve been hitched for roughly 93847598345 years, so seeing all the new brides and their cuteness really warms the cockles.  Tim and I had the best, most white trash (or Asian trash, but who’s keeping score) wedding on the planet.

Tim and I had originally planned an elaborate wedding and reception at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens with koi fish, and sushi and a crapton of Kosher offerings for our Kashrut comrades.

Tim’s work and stupid criminals who like to be idiots and injure people changed our plans. While I was sad to lose out at the time, looking back, I was so overweight when we married, I’d be horrified at the pictures now. I’d still remember how happy I was to be married, but I’d have felt very insecure about my appearance. Vain but true.

So we did the next best thing, we called up our besties one afternoon, headed to the Staten Island JOP and did it up right. In blue jeans, with an orchid in my hair. Deliriously happy. We didn’t even tell our parents we were doing it that day. We called them afterward.

There was a homeless guy singing to his cat outside, and to this day I refer to whatever alien language that guy was singing, as “our wedding song.” Awesome #1.

Awesome #2 was that we headed INTO NJ to go to dinner and went to….wait for it…..wait for it….CHI CHI’S (the celebration of food….and marriage!) All I could think of was the fab WT wedding my friend Julia, and I saw at a Denny’s in Ohio. Fabulous.

SOPAPILLAS!!! FREE NACHOS!! WEDDING RECEPTION EXTRAORDINAIRE!!

I had 2 tequila rose margaritas, because I was 21 and celebrating. Nothing says “Happily Ever After” like Tequila Rose. After leaving Chi Chi’s and doing some shopping at the also defunct, Great Indoors, (I needed candles!) We headed into Manhattan to go to La Ferrara bakery in Little Italy because they have tiny wedding cakes. We were then told that those tiny wedding cakes are GROSS and we ordered tiramisu. CAUSE WE’RE BALLERS.

worst.hangovers.ever.

Every anniversary, save for this past anniversary when we were at a wedding, we have celebrated it by eating Mexican food and Italian dessert. In hindsight, this is not the wisest decision, intestinally speaking, for romance. However, if you have enough TR, you really don’t care.

Where was your wedding? (or where do you want to marry?)

Favorite food served? (or what do you want served?)

Adopt a Mullet.

Could the weather be any more craptastic? Outside it looks like a tribe of a thousand dead cats are peeing on earth from ASPCA heaven.  I don’t know why they chose to piss on Brooklyn, we adopt EVERYTHING. Cats, children, hipster trends, farms, peculiar causes. If you slap an “adopt me” sign on it, SOMEONE in Park Slope WILL adopt it.  I am actually thinking of sitting on a corner with an “adopt me” sign around my neck and see if someone will pay my student loans.

We’re going crazy from the boredom!! We have played dress up, danced, played games, watched tv, ate lunch, tried to NOT kill each other. (SUCCESS!)

As soon as Tim walks in the door, I am walking out. HELLLLLLLLLLLO, GYM! I am going to run off the crazy. There is only so much cure Nate Berkus and DJ Lance can offer. Much more and I was going to need to go to Dashing Diva for pedis and cosmos.

 

What are your plans for the weekend?

-we are RELAXING. Staying in and working out!!

Do you have a favorite pedi place?

Clearly, mine is Dashing Diva and Pretty Spa-both give champagne or cosmos