9/23/2007

Blogging diarrhea

Sorry to invoke the mental image of runny feces. It's not the kindest word to spring on you, I know. Nor is feces I suppose.

I feel this blog is dying a slow death for many reasons, but I'm going to just keep talking even if it's just the same handful of you that are listening. I have thought about some things to write, but as they are generally too brief to address in individual posts, I'm throwing them all on this one.

First of all - forgetfulness. Was this stage not to disappear once P emerged from the womb? If anything I'm more forgetful than when I was pregnant, and I was really absent-minded then. In the past few weeks I have locked us out of our building, as well as leaving my wallet at Starbucks. There have been other stupid things I have done due to my lack of connecting thoughts, but they have little influence on anyone else so I tend to...forget them.

Locking us out of our building meant that we had to ring up my brother-in-law, a house painter, and get him to drive into the city with his big ladder. Said big ladder was then extended to its maximum length and propped up on our bathroom window (on the second floor) which just happened to be open. Two days later was the wallet-leaving incident at Starbucks, which necessitated me running back there right before closing time to, much relieved that some honest soul turned it in rather than going wild with my Boots Advantage card and my work ID. God forbid someone should get 5 loyalty points from Boots, or check out books at the uni library in my name.

The irony here is that there was another incident of forgetfulness that happened just yesterday, yet I almost forgot to mention it. Ha. I walked out of a shop without paying for milk. Just like that. I put it in the folded back hood of P's stroller and just walked on out. I only realised when I was two buildings down, and felt something cold and wet when I moved to extend the hood. Oops. Like a good girl I went back in and paid for it, and thankfully no one noticed that I walked into the store with milk that I had yet to pay for. Believe it or not I have a fairly responsible job and I'm also responsible for the life of a small child. So yeah, I don't know if you know this, but I'm kind of a big deal around here.

I can't bring myself to call it "mommy brain", as that elicits a feeling of self-loathing in the pit of my stomach for even daring to use such a cliche. I might as well start gushing about baby dust, people who are preggers, and sticky embies. Suffice it to say, I'm forgetting some shit. There.

Apropos of nothing, I had another dream about Paul Rudd last night. I love Paul Rudd dearly as he is adorable and all, but he's so not my type. Paul Rudd takes you to the theatre. Paul Rudd happily spends hours listening to your mom talk about your childhood. Paul Rudd writes you poems. Paul Rudd does not shove you up against the wall and have his very dirty, aggressive wicked way with you. Paul Rudd does not look like he could bite a man's ear off and spit it back in his face. Basically, Paul Rudd is not him. Or him. In my dream Paul and I were running away together, but there was no sex. Well, unless I forgot it.

I spent 15 minutes trying to find the picture of Joaquin that I linked to but it was worth it in the end. If my dreams are about him tonight, you can bet we are having sex. Great sex. Toe-curlingly fantastic sex. I can't even think about that photograph because The Dude is sitting in the same room as I am and that's just plain wrong. But oh, to be the owner of that thigh...

20 comments:

Bittermama said...

Yeah... I walked out of my hotel room and out of the building toward the swimming pool before noticing that my swim suit was on inside out. Complete with bra pads stuck over my boobs and weird extra crotch layer on the outside. Niiiiiiice.

Nico said...

HA HA. You made me laugh with forgetting the thing you had forgotten! I don't feel like my memory has gotten any better either, which really sucks for work. I need to come up with a coping strategy. But I keep forgetting!

bittermama you made me laugh too!

Eva said...

I'm with you on the forgetting, though I attribute it to nothing more romantic than sleep deprivation. it's worst at work, well, it matters there. I have tons of lists but then I forget where I put them or what my abbreviations mean, and once I even asked my student if she could read my handwriting on my list. Nice. I'm always worried I'll leave daycare having forgotten to button up, so I'm usually asking the caregivers before I go, up, am I decent?

I'd take Paul Rudd over the others though, sorry.

Shadiva said...

I thought I was the only one who found Gary Oldman hot.

EJW said...

I read a quote (in some stupid parenting magazine, so it's probably made up) that something like 85% of parents have accidentally stolen something from the store because they put it in the stroller and forgot. I know I have.

Flicka said...

Sorry babe, I hate Joaquin. I think he's creepy. Like the other guy, though! Guess I'm a Paul rudd type of girl at heart.

Sorry about your post-pregnancy brain damage. Any way you can work it to your advantage? "Oops, I forgot to clean the bathroom *again.* Maybe we should just get a maid, honey." There's got to be a good side to this.

Meg said...

Pru - Do you know, I have actually had running away with Paul Rudd dreams too. There must be something about him.

I am a shocker with the forgetting stuff business. A month or two ago i accidentally locked J in the car and had to call emergncy and the police and the fire brigade and the ambulance rocked up. It was quite a sight. I meant to blog about it, but I was too lazy.

statia said...

I don't know what kind of kitten dreams you're coming up with about Paul Rudd, because you know the ones that are nice to your mom, are the ones that will yank your hair in the bedroom. Oh yes.

I actually wasn't too bad in pregnancy. Now I feel like someone shook my brain up like a snow globe.

erinberry said...

Haha - You never know who will show up as a stud in your dreams... I used to have this recurring dream where I was trying to get Jerry Seinfeld alone so we could fool around.

Jerry Seinfeld, what's that about?

May said...

Mmmmmmm... Joaquin....

Sigh.

PiquantMolly said...

Oh my god, I had forgotten about that picture of Joaquin. Hooooey.

I've never had a Paul Rudd dream. In most of the dreams I have about various hot celenbrities, it's me following, say, Clive Owen around, and him being clearly annoyed with me and trying desperately to lose me. Damn it, my dreams are much too realistic.

pixi said...

I've been listening. Sorry for being a crappy responder. Heh heh - crappy - get it?

Loving your new blog, too.

DD said...

Was that the best picture you could find of Gary? He looks like one of the 3 Muskateers time warped into the 70s.

While I think Joaquin has an "interesting" face, I can't help but think of his brother everytime I see or hear his name.

You're blog is not dying any kind of death, either. You're such a drama queen sometimes. I swear, I don't know where you get it...

Momish said...

"Forgetful" is my middle name. And that was before I got pregnant, during my pregnancy and two years after giving birth.

And it just keeps getting worse. Hang in there!

Suz said...

Oh, yeah, forgetfulness. We drove up from Atlanta, about an 8 hour drive, only to remember on hour 2 that my laptop was sitting on the counter. It was sitting there on top of a piece of paper reading - "VERY IMPORTANT DO NOT FORGET"

tonya said...

Oh yes, I can so relate. It's gotten so bad lately that I've begun to refer to my calendar at home as my "paper brain." I have to check it before I make any commitments. And I used to be so spot on at remembering dates and events. {sigh} I used to think it would be better by now. I keep hoping it will improve!

bubandpie said...

I think maybe Paul Rudd is my type. Or does that mean I'm the Paul Rudd-type?

rockmama said...

See, I thought I would be a Paul Rudd kind of girl, especially after seeing him in a loin cloth in a production of Twelfth Night, but yeah, I think I'm with you at least on the Gary Oldman front.

Lut C. said...

Look on the bright side, even in forgetfulness you have your priorities straight.

Keys and wallets can be replaced, though it's a royal pain. And at least you didn't pay for the milk, walk out of the store and leave P wailing in her stroller in one of the isles. :-)

Amanda said...

Memory, bladder endurance and grace. All fucking wiped away with pregnancy in my case. I teeter back and forthe between being delighted that my husband thinks it's endearing and seething fury that he continues to mock me, albeit playfully, for these maddening defecits.