My daughter turned 3 recently. She has refused to wear anything but dresses since the first week of May, and has a serious collection of headband and clip-on hair extensions ranging from Rapunzel blonde to green and hot pink. If we try to leave the house without one, she yells, "My hair! I need my hair!" Some days, I wonder if we're on our way to preschool or the senior center. Also, she learned to read the alphabet a few days after her 2nd birthday, and last week she told me she wants to learn how to read this summer. Whether she does or not, I'm proud that she wants to.
My husband and I have, as of this month, been together for thirteen years, not counting the rehab stint and short -yet effective- jail sentence. (Okay, 2 out of 3 of those are falsehoods.) We make a good team. He stays on the other side of the line when I raise my freak flag and I don't mind his need to "modify" everything. E. Ver. Y. Thing. And, as a rule, we don't ask too many questions. An example phone call from last month:
Hubby -"(Insert name of friend here) is coming over."
Hubby -"(Insert name of friend here) is coming over."
Me -"Whatcha gonna do?"
Hubby -"Pull my truck out of the pond."
Me -"It's in the pond?"
Hubby -"Only part of it."
Me -"Okay then, see you later."
Of course we have our faults. I'm sure he's a little dejected that my idea of "sexting" is, "Please feed the kitties. Bitch." And he has a terrible habit of throwing his hat on the bed (BAD mojo). Regardless, I've decided to keep him. (...for now...)
Among our dog and three cats, we now have three hermit crabs after a sudden end to one hermit crab. My husband brought him home from the beach. My daughter named him Striper. We took him to Petsmart, had him fitted for shells, bought a house and all that entails and -over the course of a week- did every little thing to ensure that his health and mental status remained tip-top. So, of course, on the sixth day the ungrateful little pisher took a bath. Then a dirt nap. I willed him back to life for two more days before succumbing to the truth: You can love a hermit, but he'll die before he lets you in. So we had the talk, and Striper was buried at sea pond. After two ducks (of which we talk not of) and a hermit crab, my husband is banned from bringing home animals.
My daughter named her new hermits Betty Boop (Betty's mug is painted on the back of her shell), little Kiki (who she claims is a boy), and Ricky (the thinker). Since many Internet savvy people agree it's dangerous to post pics of your loved ones on public sites, I have chosen to post likenesses of them (below) to protect Betty Boop, Kiki, and Ricky from predators and potential molesters.
| Left to right: Betty Boop, Kiki, & Ricky |
Hubby -"Whatcha doing?"
Me -"I'm going to the store to buy pipe-cleaners."
Hubby -"Why?"
Me -(Impatiently) "So I can make pipe-cleaner hermit crabs."
Hubby -"Okay then, see you later."
Moving on, I have promised myself -once a few manuscripts are completed- the project of a lifetime. Since I was a teen, I've wanted desperately to build/refurb a dollhouse and decorate it with things that represent phases in my life: people, places, influences, etc... Miniatures have always been a magnetic force, along with my unruly love of paper products and baby chickens. I acquired a homemade dollhouse from a sale approximately 6 months ago, and have (adoringly) named it The Albatross. Currently, I am collecting furniture and style ideas on one of my boards at http://pinterest.com/bchorpenning/. Once I start the actual referb, I'm sure it will take months to complete. But I'm absolutely positive it will look beautiful...unless I fail miserably. In that case, I will post pics of splintered wood being sacrificed to a wild, hungry flame.
(Picture to be added soon.)
So that's a bit about me that I can safely share without fear of being labeled a ringleader, accomplice, or aider and abettor. Being a fan of the Actor's Studio with James Lipton, I've answered his final 10 below because, let's be honest, this is the only forum that is ever gonna happen in. Just imagine Lipton's voice drawing out every word until next Wednesday, and a hot Rosario Dawson or Taryn Manning answering him. (I can sound like whomever I want. It's my blog.)
1) What is your favorite word?
No.
No.
2) What is your least favorite word?
Balls. (As in male anatomy. But I totally find the word 'teabagging' hilarious.)
Balls. (As in male anatomy. But I totally find the word 'teabagging' hilarious.)
3) What turns you on?
Nice shoulders.
Nice shoulders.
4) What turns you off?
Miserable-minded people.
5) What sound or noise do you love?
My daughter's voice.
Miserable-minded people.
5) What sound or noise do you love?
My daughter's voice.
6) What sound or noise do you hate?
The screeching of metal being dragged.
The screeching of metal being dragged.
7) What is your favorite curse word?
Asstastic.
Asstastic.
8) What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Wing walker.
Wing walker.
9) What profession would you not like to do?
Anything culinary. (It's safer for everyone.)
Anything culinary. (It's safer for everyone.)
10) If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
"You're late."
"That's right, God. You didn't ask for a miracle."
"You're late."
"That's right, God. You didn't ask for a miracle."
