handicapped spot

There was this woman at the grocery store this morning. It was my second trip to the grocery store this week. Apparently, spending two-hundred and forty dollars at Fairway does not cover a week’s worth of meals and does not include staples like toilet paper, seltzer and whipped cream. (A special shout out to Hamish for sitting on the Kozy Shack and the grated cheese! Go honey! Easily replaced. I mean, where else do you put a three and a half year-old when there’s a one year-old in the passenger seat?)

shopping used to be fun

We have a wedding this weekend and I’m still wearing the same tired, uninspiring ensembles from 1998. Maybe they’re not that old. Or maybe they’re even older. So this morning I dragged the kids to go dress and shoe shopping. Isn’t that a fantastic idea? I like to live the adventure of waiting until the very last minute to shop for things I must try on, that I must buy, because without these sparkling purchases, I’d be the one wallowing the wedding away in clothes even pre-possessed, oops I mean pre-styled Katie Holmes wouldn’t wear.

roar of the milf

The clock is ticking! I failed typing in high school or never took it I can't remember! I don't use my pinkies! I could really use them right now to blog faster, but OH WELL. Were you at Target this morning? Did I see you there? Yes that was me, I was the one in the baby wipes aisle who ate the crackers someone left open unwrapped on the shelf. I was hungry.

big B, Little b, what begins with b? bryan and botkier bag blues. B, B, B.

My husband. I love him. He is just...ahh. I don't know. Such a mensch. Last night we're on the sofa, giddy with excitement because we're finally watching the season premiere of House. God, that detective is so mean. And House is our hero. His cynicism throws us into fist-pumping spasms of victory, like, "Yeah! Take that you turd muffins!" And these days I truly understand his pain. Let the man have his Vicodin! He's so complicated! He hates us yet he saves our lives! Someone tell Ayn Rand—Altruism lives! House is a messiah!

bananas

Aaahhhh! Feel like I'm running too fast this morning. Dragged Stella to Banana Republic, parked miles away so I could have a brisk morning rush through Cobble Hill and Brooklyn Heights and spill orange juice all over the stroller.

You see, Bryan called yesterday and asked if I'd like to go to Hillary Clinton's birthday party tomorrow night at Tavern on the Green. Would I? Can you say 'Babysitter'? This is what is so great about living in New York City. His boss can't go, so here we are more than happy to fill two $1,000 seats.