Friday, April 25, 2008

Oops, I did it again


I read Maureen Dowd. Again. WHY do I always do that?

When I was a kid, I had a hallucination that I read a hilarious Family Circus cartoon. God, it must have been great. Because every single day, I read Family Circus without fail, thinking that THIS WAS THE DAY it would be hilarious again. And? It wasn't. It painfully, stupidly wasn't. It was the dotted line following Billy around the room, or somebody breaking a vase and blaming it "Not Me!" Har har har. And once again, there were at least 30 seconds of my life that I would never get back.

It's not just me. It's a phenomenon. As the cute drug dealer in the movie Go says, "It's just sitting there on the page, waiting to suck," and I just. Kept. Looking. Eventually I stopped, and never read Family Circus again (except for the sublime and legendary Dysfunctional Family Circus before the lawyers shut it down. Who knew Bil Keane had no sense of humor? Other than everyone who ever read Family Circus?)

What I'm trying to say is, Maureen Dowd is like Family Circus. She's just sitting on the Times op-ed page, waiting to suck. And I fall for it every time, because somewhere in my past, I read a column that was brilliant. Right? Didn't I? I'm sure I did. Anyway, I always read it and I always end up rolling my eyes and wishing I'd just stuck with Paul Krugman.

Actually, on the scale of suck, Wednesday wasn't so bad. Not anything earth-shattering, just the totally unnecessary use of the word Brobdingnagian (to describe finger-wagging? Huh?). And Maureen passing off Art Buchwald's old Marvin K. Mooney joke, which was really funny...when he made it, about 35 years ago. She even acknowledged that it was his, and repeated it, laming it up in her own special way. Sigh.

If there's a dysfunctional parody of Maureen Dowd out there, I'm all over it. Just point the way. With Brobdingnagian finger-wagging.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008


Every day I have a brief moment of silence for the loss of Trader Joe's from my life. At the risk of sounding like one of those annoying city-folk transplants who is always whining, "I reeeeally miss (IKEA, the subway, real bagels, cynicism, etcetera) it does suck to the max that Colorado has zero Trader Joe's presence. I mean, good god, this state probably leads the world in trail mix consumption. Where else are all the rich hippies in Boulder going to shop when they get sick of Whole Foods?

I know that the Colorado liquor weasels blanch at the thought of a store that distributes its own cheap, decent wine. And I also know that there ain't no way Trader Joe's is coming here if they can't sell beer and wine, their bread and butter. But I think I speak for all of the outlanders here when I say that I would gladly give up the Two Buck Chuck to be reunited with my chili spice mango. There is no substitute.

Until now.

Last week, Sunflower Market opened in Boulder. It's not TJ's, but it's pretty darned close. Plastic containers filled with nuts and candy. Tasty produce. Lotsa cheese and crackers. Good stuff.

But wait! It's better! Sunflower has an actual, living breathing meat department, the lack of which was Trader Joe's achilles heel for me. And it also has my new favorite snack--Caramel Corn Puffs. Or as I like to call them, Insane Crack Nuggets. These are basically caramel corn without all that pesky corn. I swear, the only corn in these guys is in the corn syrup that they shellac on the outside of these puffs. I seriously have to have Rick hide them from me or I would eat them continuously. God they're amazing. Thank you, Sunflower Market, for thinking of me in my time of PMS.

Trader Joe's will always have a special place in my heart, but Sunflower now fills the void.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

I'm back, and I'm SPARKLY!


By popular demand (hi Kristen) I'm back and making a concerted effort to blog more than once every six weeks. I forgot that many of you are on maternity leave, or don't have jobs, or have jobs and don't want to do them, and reading about the daily workings of my life is the one thing that keeps you going. So I pledge to think of your needs from now on.

Just to catch up, since February I've been through:

A basement remodel
Some snow
A business continuity campaign
A funeral
Annual objectives
A whopping tax bill

Which brings us to yesterday, and two momentous events: Tea's third birthday party and the delivery of the last of our new furniture, making our house more or less complete. Because I always say, the best time to have furniture delivered is an hour before your daughter's birthday party begins. And the best way to ensure a long life for said furniture is to immediately let a dozen small kids jump on it for a few hours. With and without shoes.

But I in such a state of euphoria brought on by a. having furniture not covered in dog hair and b. having a daughter who is THAT MUCH CLOSER to being potty trained that I could overlook a little couch chaos. A few hundred sticky fingerprints on the Noguchi coffee table? NO PROBLEM. I think margaritas helped this.

Tea's party had an extra special side effect that I didn't expect, yet is completely cool. T got several fancy girly dress-up gifts that had that essential ingredient for 3-year-old fabulousness--glitter, and lots of it. After three hours of Tea strutting through the house in her new fairy wings and pink ballet skirt, our new couches and rug are covered in a layer of fairy dust. Everything sparkles with an extra princessy glint. And you know what? I kinda like it. I think it lends just the right mid-century space-age bachelor pad look to the place. I think I'll keep it.

If Design Within Reach were run by 3-year-old girls...

Next on the interior design agenda: Dora the Explorer. And lots of it.