Ten Predictions for the Coming Year
These things are gonna happen, people, so just gird your loins.
1. Per chaos theory, a violent tornado will arise as the result of an errant Argentinian butterfly flapping its wings. Picking up nails, screws, and long sheets of scrap metal as it travels, the tornado will whisk all my enemies into the ocean, where they will sink while being gnawed in a desultory fashion by a pod of sharks.
2. A cut lil' bunny rabbit that has been kept in a cage for all its natural life will turn feral, escape, and eat all the members of the household. It will then lead its dumb cousins in cages everywhere to mimic its actions in "copycat" fashion after they observe the story airing nightly on local Fox news stations. Earth will hereafter be known as The Bunny Planet.
3. Glenn Beck will be eaten by a bunny.
4. Sarah Palin will be eaten by a bunny, but only after she takes down a rabid army of bunnies Rambo-style. She survives for a time on their flesh, hiding out in a decrepit trailer in the Alaskan wilderness, before succumbing to a Great Raid by the bunny infantry.
5. The bunnies will finally be defeated by a pride of lions who decide that enough is enough of this bunny crap. They eat a bunch of people too, but then peace will be achieved by a group of vigilante vegans who convince the beasts that a macrobiotic diet will ensure longevity. The lions wait and bide their time, fretting that the humans are getting awfully lean and stringy.
6. In the last days of 2010, health care reform will finally be achieved. Uninsured citizens will be able to buy into an affordable plan starting in 2015, but anything related to hearts, lungs, skin, tummies, brains, and other sundry organs will not be included in the plan thanks to a last-minute clause inserted by the Republicans. Approximately 1,245,678 small children will be gnawed and devoured by bunnies in the intervening time, making their health care issues rather moot.
7. Cookie LaRue, the 35th mistress of Tiger Woods to come forward, will vastly underestimate the appetite of the American public for scandalous gossip when she uses the phrases "nine-iron" and "the pooper" in the same sentence. Fox News ratings go up again, and Accenture executives muse about bringing Tiger back as a spokesperson with a few fresh and amusing taglines.
8. Spencer Pratt, his bride, Britney's spawn, Bill O'Reilly, and Jon and Kate and all eight children all get eaten by bunnies in a most grisly spectacle known as "The Circus of the Rabbits." The lions finish off what the bunnies left behind.
9. Sacha Baron Cohen's new film, "Li-Li," shames a lot of people who are duped into thinking the actor is actually a maniacal 8-year-old Japanese girl who likes to wear party frocks made out of meat and wants to show you her detachable penis.
10. President Obama, in an effort to bring peace to the Middle East, hosts an all-day "Booze and fucking crazy-ass drugs summit" at the White House. Refreshments include fountains spurting liquid LSD, psychedelic mushroom canapes, and a roasted tofu-piggie stuffed with "chronic" marijuana and vomiting a constant stream of goofballs and pep pills via a perpetual motion machine invented by Al Gore. It all goes well until someone gets beheaded in the jello shot salon and a lot of fingers get pointed.
Friday, January 1, 2010
The Same 10 Questions I Always Ask Myself, Part the Seventh
1. What are you wearing?
Under my clothes and underthings I am wearing nothing. I swear to god, naked! I know this is unseemly but I am a naughty girl.
2. What's the nature of today's hypochondria?
Inability to breathe properly might mean that the pasta I ate for lunch went down the wrong tube and wound up in my lungs. Really! It could happen, maybe? If certain foods go down the wrong tube it could seriously hamper one's breathing. Clams casino? Carrot sticks?
3. What was today's workout?
While the boys watched the bizarre and twisted Rankin Bass special "Rudolph and Frosty's Christmas in July," I hauled out the 10-pound velcro wraparound weight I used to use for knee exercises at age 11 and did the very same exercises. They involve lying on the floor on your back while hoisting the dismal weight up into the air with a straight leg. Lift 20 times and then repeat with the other leg. Repeat as needed. I hated these exercises as a child and now I did them voluntarily so as to get "lean thighs." It was about all I could muster after gurgling down quantities of Very Expensive Wines at our neighbors' last night for New Year's. Does anyone else experience that finer wines cause a more grevious hangover?
4. How do you do what you do and stay so sweet?
Baby Sunshine is all that stands between me and a dire bout of Bad Blood Pressure.
5. What's that burning smell?
My New Year's Resolutions beginning to sizzle at the seams. Oh forget it, they are already completely damaged and will have to be returned until 2011.
6. If you were an animal, what kind would you be?
A turkey, but not the whole bird. Maybe just a drumstick, or a thigh.
7. What are you drinking, and why?
The best cocktail ever invented, the dirty martini. Oh, I shall sing its praises in another dedicated blog entry! I am drinking it because it was poured for me, and because it is cold, and because it is good.
8. In what ways hast thou offended?
Today I gazed at the pile of projects on and near the children's art table and thought: "By god, I could just bundle it up and throw it all away. All of it! Without even picking through it to sort out the pieces of better quality." I didn't do it, however, and for that I am out of sorts. I also let the little mites watch 10+ hours of TV today because I felt kinda funny and when I bent over I got dizzy and stuff.
9. What's the next big thing?
Real estate prices are going to surge through the roof and make us all rich, rich, rich! My own home will triple in value in the next five months, I promise you. Also, in March of 2010, a small pet turtle in the American midwest will become sentient and begin to plot our demise.
10. Music selection?
Thanks to our good friend S, I have the tune to "Jingle Bell Rock" repeating endlessly in my brain. Christmas is over but the fun lingers on. Sometimes "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree" will intrude on the merry "Jingle Bell Rock" tune but I shoo it aside; there is room for but one Christmas song in my head.
Under my clothes and underthings I am wearing nothing. I swear to god, naked! I know this is unseemly but I am a naughty girl.
2. What's the nature of today's hypochondria?
Inability to breathe properly might mean that the pasta I ate for lunch went down the wrong tube and wound up in my lungs. Really! It could happen, maybe? If certain foods go down the wrong tube it could seriously hamper one's breathing. Clams casino? Carrot sticks?
3. What was today's workout?
While the boys watched the bizarre and twisted Rankin Bass special "Rudolph and Frosty's Christmas in July," I hauled out the 10-pound velcro wraparound weight I used to use for knee exercises at age 11 and did the very same exercises. They involve lying on the floor on your back while hoisting the dismal weight up into the air with a straight leg. Lift 20 times and then repeat with the other leg. Repeat as needed. I hated these exercises as a child and now I did them voluntarily so as to get "lean thighs." It was about all I could muster after gurgling down quantities of Very Expensive Wines at our neighbors' last night for New Year's. Does anyone else experience that finer wines cause a more grevious hangover?
4. How do you do what you do and stay so sweet?
Baby Sunshine is all that stands between me and a dire bout of Bad Blood Pressure.
5. What's that burning smell?
My New Year's Resolutions beginning to sizzle at the seams. Oh forget it, they are already completely damaged and will have to be returned until 2011.
6. If you were an animal, what kind would you be?
A turkey, but not the whole bird. Maybe just a drumstick, or a thigh.
7. What are you drinking, and why?
The best cocktail ever invented, the dirty martini. Oh, I shall sing its praises in another dedicated blog entry! I am drinking it because it was poured for me, and because it is cold, and because it is good.
8. In what ways hast thou offended?
Today I gazed at the pile of projects on and near the children's art table and thought: "By god, I could just bundle it up and throw it all away. All of it! Without even picking through it to sort out the pieces of better quality." I didn't do it, however, and for that I am out of sorts. I also let the little mites watch 10+ hours of TV today because I felt kinda funny and when I bent over I got dizzy and stuff.
9. What's the next big thing?
Real estate prices are going to surge through the roof and make us all rich, rich, rich! My own home will triple in value in the next five months, I promise you. Also, in March of 2010, a small pet turtle in the American midwest will become sentient and begin to plot our demise.
10. Music selection?
Thanks to our good friend S, I have the tune to "Jingle Bell Rock" repeating endlessly in my brain. Christmas is over but the fun lingers on. Sometimes "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree" will intrude on the merry "Jingle Bell Rock" tune but I shoo it aside; there is room for but one Christmas song in my head.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Your Property Is Needed in a Movie
So says the subject line of a recent email I received. According to this email, I can get up to $10,000 per day! Boy, what I could do with $10K per day, so I wrote to them immediately. They came and checked the joint out, and shared with us the screenplays to the following films that would be suitable for filming on our property. Here, a brief synopsis of the offerings:
Lil' Appalachia
A down and out couple find themselves the bane of the neighborhood when their children turn feral and begin living in the woodshed. Special Guest Appearance by Macaulay Culkin as Ju-Ju the Dog-Faced Boy.
The Chamber Pot
Ten years ago, a destitute old Granny took up residence in the attic, and has not been seen since except to exchange the daily chamber pot for a platter of gruel. But when the house is sold and a happy young family moves in, Granny is accidentally left behind...and she is very, very angry. Cameo appearance by the ghost of Shelley Winters.
Worms
There's something brewing in the compost heap, and it hasn't got any legs! Terror ensues when the creatures commandeer some moldering Jack O'Lanterns and bring down an ass-kicking post-Halloween Apocalypse. Starring Sandra Bullock as Juicy Goodheap, the village constable's wife.
Ninja Assassin Back to the Future to Get You, Suckah!
A couple who move into a charming, 1890s Victorian home invent a time-travel machine so they can go back and beat the tar out of the former owners, who tore all the crown moldings out and installed acoustic tile ceilings. Currently attached to project: Jackie Chan as "the husband."
Shag
It seemed like a good idea to rip out the old 1970s shag carpeting from the new house. But the seemingly innocent action releases the spirit of Shag, a beast with a musty, teal-green pelt, piggy red eyes, and the funk of 40,000 drunken swingers' parties and dropped glasses of red wine about him. His bumbling attempts to find love in 2010 will have audiences giggling at this heartwarming, romantic comedy.
Schtinky Teddy: The Vengeance
A sweet but fragrant teddy bear comes to life and engulfs a lot of innocent folk with his stink. Music and lyrics by R. Kelly.
Dude, Where's My Stash?
A perennially drunk, suburban couple become obsessed with the notion that gold, jewels, cash, or drugs is hidden somewhere in their home. As they wantonly tear their house down to the foundations with axes and hammers, they discover that the only true source of wealth lies in organic veggies, and start a beet farm atop the ruins. Unfortunately, the immense quantities of lead paint, acoustic tile, and shag carpet remnants in the soil sicken an entire generation of beet-eating children, and lead to a lawsuit and a furious court battle. Based on a novel by John Grisham.
The Faux Wood-Themed Wallpaper
A mentally ill woman comes to the country to recuperate, but she starts to see bulbous eyes and creepy aliens in the disgusting wood paneling of her bedroom. In despair, she does a lot of laundry in the dank and dripping basement, where she is maimed by large crickets. Starring Angelina Jolie-Pitt as The Woman.
New Moons
Vampire heartthrob Edward Cullen comes creeping around the perimeter of the property, but happens upon an ill-timed gathering of three be-wigged ladies and a skunk. Lots of pre-prandial cocktails ensue, which are quickly interrupted by small children who have to go piddle.
Rumbling Toward Gomorrah
Michael Moore heads to Mamaroneck to investigate why the neighbors are so durned suspiciously friendly and why they keep coming by with fruitcakes and pies. When he makes a wrong turn off I-95 and winds up in New Rochelle by accident, he is swept away in the yearly Great Mating Ritual of the abandoned shopping carts and decides to make a nature documentary instead. Cameo appearance by Our House in an overhead aerial shot of the Great Trek of the Carts.
Lil' Appalachia
A down and out couple find themselves the bane of the neighborhood when their children turn feral and begin living in the woodshed. Special Guest Appearance by Macaulay Culkin as Ju-Ju the Dog-Faced Boy.
The Chamber Pot
Ten years ago, a destitute old Granny took up residence in the attic, and has not been seen since except to exchange the daily chamber pot for a platter of gruel. But when the house is sold and a happy young family moves in, Granny is accidentally left behind...and she is very, very angry. Cameo appearance by the ghost of Shelley Winters.
Worms
There's something brewing in the compost heap, and it hasn't got any legs! Terror ensues when the creatures commandeer some moldering Jack O'Lanterns and bring down an ass-kicking post-Halloween Apocalypse. Starring Sandra Bullock as Juicy Goodheap, the village constable's wife.
Ninja Assassin Back to the Future to Get You, Suckah!
A couple who move into a charming, 1890s Victorian home invent a time-travel machine so they can go back and beat the tar out of the former owners, who tore all the crown moldings out and installed acoustic tile ceilings. Currently attached to project: Jackie Chan as "the husband."
Shag
It seemed like a good idea to rip out the old 1970s shag carpeting from the new house. But the seemingly innocent action releases the spirit of Shag, a beast with a musty, teal-green pelt, piggy red eyes, and the funk of 40,000 drunken swingers' parties and dropped glasses of red wine about him. His bumbling attempts to find love in 2010 will have audiences giggling at this heartwarming, romantic comedy.
Schtinky Teddy: The Vengeance
A sweet but fragrant teddy bear comes to life and engulfs a lot of innocent folk with his stink. Music and lyrics by R. Kelly.
Dude, Where's My Stash?
A perennially drunk, suburban couple become obsessed with the notion that gold, jewels, cash, or drugs is hidden somewhere in their home. As they wantonly tear their house down to the foundations with axes and hammers, they discover that the only true source of wealth lies in organic veggies, and start a beet farm atop the ruins. Unfortunately, the immense quantities of lead paint, acoustic tile, and shag carpet remnants in the soil sicken an entire generation of beet-eating children, and lead to a lawsuit and a furious court battle. Based on a novel by John Grisham.
The Faux Wood-Themed Wallpaper
A mentally ill woman comes to the country to recuperate, but she starts to see bulbous eyes and creepy aliens in the disgusting wood paneling of her bedroom. In despair, she does a lot of laundry in the dank and dripping basement, where she is maimed by large crickets. Starring Angelina Jolie-Pitt as The Woman.
New Moons
Vampire heartthrob Edward Cullen comes creeping around the perimeter of the property, but happens upon an ill-timed gathering of three be-wigged ladies and a skunk. Lots of pre-prandial cocktails ensue, which are quickly interrupted by small children who have to go piddle.
Rumbling Toward Gomorrah
Michael Moore heads to Mamaroneck to investigate why the neighbors are so durned suspiciously friendly and why they keep coming by with fruitcakes and pies. When he makes a wrong turn off I-95 and winds up in New Rochelle by accident, he is swept away in the yearly Great Mating Ritual of the abandoned shopping carts and decides to make a nature documentary instead. Cameo appearance by Our House in an overhead aerial shot of the Great Trek of the Carts.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Invitations to events that already happened. A long time ago.
Found these in the "drafts" folder of my email...which apparently has never been cleansed. Do I discard nothing? And why aren't both these events happening next week?
1. Subject line: ORGANATRON
Bizarre! Outlandish! Terrifying!
It's Organatron...new "organic" improvisational comedy at the Upright Citizen's Brigade Theater.
Organatron has it all for the discerning theatergoer: dance, poetry, opera, monsters, mayhem, doo-wop, ritualistic sacrifice, and lots of creeping about on the floor and making odd noises.
Watch their evolution from primitive, amoebic lifeforms...into comedic gods!
Two nights only:
Wednesdays, 9/12 and 9/19
Both nights at the absurdly late hour of 11:00 p.m. (People who wish to kill time until 10:59 by drinking are encouraged to do so.)
$5
The Upright Citizen's Brigade Theater
161 West 22nd Street (btw 6/7 avenues)
For other shows and info., check out www.uprightcitizens.org
Please note: The troop will be clad in form-fitting black unitards and snoods*
* Not guaranteed. Snoods and unitards may be purely imaginary and used only as a snare and an enticement to the unwary. No money will be refunded in the event that we are actually wearing Old Navy sale bin items.
2. Subject line: Boo(ze)!
Hail fellow Brooklynites (and those few fearless Manhattanites who dare ford the great, foaming, sea-monster-infested East River)!
Join us for a mid-week Halloween birthday maelstrom in the borough that rocks the most...Brooklyn, New York.
Date: Wednesday, October 31, 2001
First Location:
BOAT
Located on trendy, fashionable Smith Street between Wyckoff and Warren
(East side of the street)
Closest Subway: The F or G to the Bergen St. stop is about 1 block away.
There is no sign; however, you can spot it by the red curtains in the window and the blue lights above the door. It has a red exterior.
We'll be there somewhere between 7-8 p.m.
I recommend their Sapphire and Tonics.
After much merriment (perhaps by around 10:00 p.m. or so) we shall be shuffling onward, but a few minutes away, to our...
Second location:
LAST EXIT (home of fruity martini-like concoctions with names like "The Gowanus" )
136 Atlantic Avenue btw. Clinton and Henry
Closest subway: 4/5, 2/3 at Borough Hall
(There's an N/R as well, but it's highly suspect, and may take you to unknown locations in Queens.)
I will no doubt be wearing what my brother recently described as "whatever offense against decency you'll be calling a costume this year." So fear not--don your fright wigs, ballet tutus, flying monkey wings, pita-bread brassieres, Scottish kilts, and rubber nose extensions--you will all be accepted! So will any friends you choose to drag along.
Questions and complaints about this excessively long e-mail, or about any aspect of my personality: call me.
1. Subject line: ORGANATRON
Bizarre! Outlandish! Terrifying!
It's Organatron...new "organic" improvisational comedy at the Upright Citizen's Brigade Theater.
Organatron has it all for the discerning theatergoer: dance, poetry, opera, monsters, mayhem, doo-wop, ritualistic sacrifice, and lots of creeping about on the floor and making odd noises.
Watch their evolution from primitive, amoebic lifeforms...into comedic gods!
Two nights only:
Wednesdays, 9/12 and 9/19
Both nights at the absurdly late hour of 11:00 p.m. (People who wish to kill time until 10:59 by drinking are encouraged to do so.)
$5
The Upright Citizen's Brigade Theater
161 West 22nd Street (btw 6/7 avenues)
For other shows and info., check out www.uprightcitizens.org
Please note: The troop will be clad in form-fitting black unitards and snoods*
* Not guaranteed. Snoods and unitards may be purely imaginary and used only as a snare and an enticement to the unwary. No money will be refunded in the event that we are actually wearing Old Navy sale bin items.
2. Subject line: Boo(ze)!
Hail fellow Brooklynites (and those few fearless Manhattanites who dare ford the great, foaming, sea-monster-infested East River)!
Join us for a mid-week Halloween birthday maelstrom in the borough that rocks the most...Brooklyn, New York.
Date: Wednesday, October 31, 2001
First Location:
BOAT
Located on trendy, fashionable Smith Street between Wyckoff and Warren
(East side of the street)
Closest Subway: The F or G to the Bergen St. stop is about 1 block away.
There is no sign; however, you can spot it by the red curtains in the window and the blue lights above the door. It has a red exterior.
We'll be there somewhere between 7-8 p.m.
I recommend their Sapphire and Tonics.
After much merriment (perhaps by around 10:00 p.m. or so) we shall be shuffling onward, but a few minutes away, to our...
Second location:
LAST EXIT (home of fruity martini-like concoctions with names like "The Gowanus" )
136 Atlantic Avenue btw. Clinton and Henry
Closest subway: 4/5, 2/3 at Borough Hall
(There's an N/R as well, but it's highly suspect, and may take you to unknown locations in Queens.)
I will no doubt be wearing what my brother recently described as "whatever offense against decency you'll be calling a costume this year." So fear not--don your fright wigs, ballet tutus, flying monkey wings, pita-bread brassieres, Scottish kilts, and rubber nose extensions--you will all be accepted! So will any friends you choose to drag along.
Questions and complaints about this excessively long e-mail, or about any aspect of my personality: call me.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Playing at Draughts
Checkers game after dinner with the boys. I am on a solo team, while Eldest Son and Middle Son both align themselves with Daddy. They've seen him at games, and know on which side their bread is buttered.
It started off okay. But at a critical juncture in the game, Daddy set a vicious trap, and I walked into it like a lamb. I was ruined in one blow. "The trap! The trap!" screamed the boys, giddy with battle-lust. Middle Son practically did a "boo-yah!" in-your-face you're-going-DOWN dance.
Now it's looking quite poor for Mommy. Eldest Son, with the evil, Machiavellian help of Daddy, moves across the board with rapacious glee. Many of my poor black pieces fall under his sway. He quickly Kings at least four pieces, and the Kings move like deadly puff adders to corner Mommy's sad, remaining black pieces.
I'm really scared, okay? My black pieces are backing away toward a Last Stand type of thing, and I feel the blood-chilling fear of a lone soldier who is out of ammunition. It would not have been so bad if Eldest Son had not turned to me with a deadpan expression and said, with those big blue eyes devoid of warmth: "There is nothing you can do to stop this from happening."
"Cruel child!" I shouted. The younger one sniggered in vicarious excitement. "Evil," he said. "Evil is his one and only name!" I probably shouldn't have been singing Austin Power riffs during the first heady moments of the game, when my fate was not yet apparent.
With no way out, I waited. Then Daddy (who was sweating with delight over the prospect of winning! On behalf of his son, of course) got careless and made a real dumb-dumb move--a corker of a stupid move. As he removed his hand from the piece, he blanched. But it was too late. In one victorious sweep, the game was over. I gave a cry of triumph.
Eldest Son immediately collapsed over the table as if stabbed, and began to wail piteously. In the very next moment, Middle Son leaned over the table conspiratorially, with bright, shining eyes:
"I was on your team the whole time, Mommy," he said.
It started off okay. But at a critical juncture in the game, Daddy set a vicious trap, and I walked into it like a lamb. I was ruined in one blow. "The trap! The trap!" screamed the boys, giddy with battle-lust. Middle Son practically did a "boo-yah!" in-your-face you're-going-DOWN dance.
Now it's looking quite poor for Mommy. Eldest Son, with the evil, Machiavellian help of Daddy, moves across the board with rapacious glee. Many of my poor black pieces fall under his sway. He quickly Kings at least four pieces, and the Kings move like deadly puff adders to corner Mommy's sad, remaining black pieces.
I'm really scared, okay? My black pieces are backing away toward a Last Stand type of thing, and I feel the blood-chilling fear of a lone soldier who is out of ammunition. It would not have been so bad if Eldest Son had not turned to me with a deadpan expression and said, with those big blue eyes devoid of warmth: "There is nothing you can do to stop this from happening."
"Cruel child!" I shouted. The younger one sniggered in vicarious excitement. "Evil," he said. "Evil is his one and only name!" I probably shouldn't have been singing Austin Power riffs during the first heady moments of the game, when my fate was not yet apparent.
With no way out, I waited. Then Daddy (who was sweating with delight over the prospect of winning! On behalf of his son, of course) got careless and made a real dumb-dumb move--a corker of a stupid move. As he removed his hand from the piece, he blanched. But it was too late. In one victorious sweep, the game was over. I gave a cry of triumph.
Eldest Son immediately collapsed over the table as if stabbed, and began to wail piteously. In the very next moment, Middle Son leaned over the table conspiratorially, with bright, shining eyes:
"I was on your team the whole time, Mommy," he said.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Halloween Costumes of Years Past
This blog has been about as fallow as my pumpkin patch. I have a good excuse! I am working on my novel, which will bring me infinitely more money and fame and all that rot.
Tonight's entry is an exercise in my mental acuity, as I attempt to recreate the Halloween costumes of the last however-many years.
2008: DJ Lance Rock, star of the children's show "Yo Gabba Gabba." My nighttime costume: The board game "Twister," complete with a blue wig.
2007: A frightful orange-wigged witch. Hey, I had never been a witch before. EVER. It was new! It was fresh!
2006: The Snow Queen. I wore a white flimsy thing and some fake lamb's wool, and a glittery mask. And boots covered with white fabric. My children were a moose and lamb.
2005: Having just moved and had a baby, I was a goddamned chicken again. The kids in New Ro thought I was practicing some kind of hoo-do voo-doo with my Martha-Stewart-clever chicken feet made out of yellow dishwashing gloves.
2004: A big old malevolent chicken.
2003: I was a pumpkin. Nine months pregnant and angry, and overdue, I sat on my stoop and handed out candy for one of the first occasions in my life.
2002: The Radioactive Rabbit. This consisted of a horrible headdress made out of a paper bag, with plastic Easter eggs and Easter grass glue-gunned to the top of the bag. The mask had tennis balls cut in half for eyes, and studded with huge fake flowers. Oh, and the ears had leopard-print fabric accents.
2001: Methinks this was the first year I was a Snow Queen. We had a party at Boat, a delightful little bar in Cobble Hill. This time, I wore a very long and elegant white formal dress, which was originally employed during a Newport Party of very extreme good taste.
2000: I was a beautiful flower. I wore long white gloves, a flower headdress, and a dress I had staple-gunned together that was covered in small green leaves. If I have the dates right, this was the year I had a Halloween party during which my friend T. served cheese to random passersby from my stoop and my friends E. and T. and I wandered over to my brother's apartment to "spook" him, but wound up on the wrong floor trying to insert a key into the wrong door.
1999: Good luck remembering what I was this year. I am almost certain it was a Purple People Eater. I wore purple jeans and a purple top, and a big old horn in the center of my forehead. And I had wings!
1998: Okay, this was the costume that probably caused my husband to second-guess our entire marriage. I was the OCTO-MOOSE. I wore a green uni-suit made of green flannel, purple Converse sneakers, and a giant moose headdress. I also had this most bizarre homemade Octopus skirt, which my friend had picked up at a flea market. It included eight stuffed men's socks. And then I think we went out on the streets and played music on guitar, and I danced and ran about in the hideous costume. And chased my new husband saying "yah yah yah!" Enough said!
1997: The Reptile Queen. I had a hideous headdress made of snakes and lizards, and a green gown. With a reptile belt! This costume was HOT!
1996: This may well have been the year that I was Leguma, the Vegetable Goddess. I strode the streets of New York with a carrot headdress, and a slim green outfit accentuated by a belt made out of dangling produce. I believe I may have spent a significant amount on bell peppers this year, as I needed to costume for more than one event. At one party, a friend began to snack on my outfit.
1995: Oh Lord, my memory is hurting. Could it be that this was the year I was the Beast of Many Colors? I wore Leopard, Tiger, and a host of other animal pelts. I was walked around by my young friend H., who was dressed as an "old crone."
Any years missing or erroneous? Friends, please fill them in! And send photos! I could go back in time to the year that I was a little black cat in Kalamazoo, Michigan.
And the best costume of them all. The year is unknown, but it was early 90s for certain. I had not planned properly, and on Halloween night had to fashion a costume quickly with little at my disposal. Yet I had a tutu! And a pumpkin mask with snaggly, fabric teeth! And a Russian fur hat! Thence was born: BALLET PUMPKIN.
Tonight's entry is an exercise in my mental acuity, as I attempt to recreate the Halloween costumes of the last however-many years.
2008: DJ Lance Rock, star of the children's show "Yo Gabba Gabba." My nighttime costume: The board game "Twister," complete with a blue wig.
2007: A frightful orange-wigged witch. Hey, I had never been a witch before. EVER. It was new! It was fresh!
2006: The Snow Queen. I wore a white flimsy thing and some fake lamb's wool, and a glittery mask. And boots covered with white fabric. My children were a moose and lamb.
2005: Having just moved and had a baby, I was a goddamned chicken again. The kids in New Ro thought I was practicing some kind of hoo-do voo-doo with my Martha-Stewart-clever chicken feet made out of yellow dishwashing gloves.
2004: A big old malevolent chicken.
2003: I was a pumpkin. Nine months pregnant and angry, and overdue, I sat on my stoop and handed out candy for one of the first occasions in my life.
2002: The Radioactive Rabbit. This consisted of a horrible headdress made out of a paper bag, with plastic Easter eggs and Easter grass glue-gunned to the top of the bag. The mask had tennis balls cut in half for eyes, and studded with huge fake flowers. Oh, and the ears had leopard-print fabric accents.
2001: Methinks this was the first year I was a Snow Queen. We had a party at Boat, a delightful little bar in Cobble Hill. This time, I wore a very long and elegant white formal dress, which was originally employed during a Newport Party of very extreme good taste.
2000: I was a beautiful flower. I wore long white gloves, a flower headdress, and a dress I had staple-gunned together that was covered in small green leaves. If I have the dates right, this was the year I had a Halloween party during which my friend T. served cheese to random passersby from my stoop and my friends E. and T. and I wandered over to my brother's apartment to "spook" him, but wound up on the wrong floor trying to insert a key into the wrong door.
1999: Good luck remembering what I was this year. I am almost certain it was a Purple People Eater. I wore purple jeans and a purple top, and a big old horn in the center of my forehead. And I had wings!
1998: Okay, this was the costume that probably caused my husband to second-guess our entire marriage. I was the OCTO-MOOSE. I wore a green uni-suit made of green flannel, purple Converse sneakers, and a giant moose headdress. I also had this most bizarre homemade Octopus skirt, which my friend had picked up at a flea market. It included eight stuffed men's socks. And then I think we went out on the streets and played music on guitar, and I danced and ran about in the hideous costume. And chased my new husband saying "yah yah yah!" Enough said!
1997: The Reptile Queen. I had a hideous headdress made of snakes and lizards, and a green gown. With a reptile belt! This costume was HOT!
1996: This may well have been the year that I was Leguma, the Vegetable Goddess. I strode the streets of New York with a carrot headdress, and a slim green outfit accentuated by a belt made out of dangling produce. I believe I may have spent a significant amount on bell peppers this year, as I needed to costume for more than one event. At one party, a friend began to snack on my outfit.
1995: Oh Lord, my memory is hurting. Could it be that this was the year I was the Beast of Many Colors? I wore Leopard, Tiger, and a host of other animal pelts. I was walked around by my young friend H., who was dressed as an "old crone."
Any years missing or erroneous? Friends, please fill them in! And send photos! I could go back in time to the year that I was a little black cat in Kalamazoo, Michigan.
And the best costume of them all. The year is unknown, but it was early 90s for certain. I had not planned properly, and on Halloween night had to fashion a costume quickly with little at my disposal. Yet I had a tutu! And a pumpkin mask with snaggly, fabric teeth! And a Russian fur hat! Thence was born: BALLET PUMPKIN.
Friday, August 28, 2009
My Wretched Little Punkin Patch
This year, we decided we would have a charming little pumpkin patch to entertain our boys and provide hours of delight, not to mention Halloween manna like the gods write about.
Let me just explain that we may as well have lain prone in the back forty and let the birds peck at our eyes. Such torment would have been preferable to watching the feathered blight DESTROY ALL OF OUR DREAMS.
It started when our six maturing pumpkin plants begin to burst forth in a fecund froth of blooms. We were excited! We watched them, waiting for the elusive female (with its fatter bump under the flower), so that we could take our friend's advice and manually "sex" the pumpkins by "inserting" some pollen from one of the male flowers. The females were rare, but the males were popping up all over the joint. Then one morning, we awoke to discover that every last male flower had been bitten off at the stem. Some females were still there, waiting expectantly, but like a bunch of haggard spinsters they withered on the vine. (Later--too late--we realized we could have stolen over to the neighbors to borrow a male appendage from one of their flowers, but the stud-farming of pumpkins might have caused some tongues to wag.)
We blamed the bunnies, of course. First, we purchased dried fox urine, marketed as the "scent of fear." The rabbits were supposed to have heart attacks within 50 feet of the stuff. Next, a friend suggested that the cookbook The Splendid Table said that human urine was more effective, and that with four males in the family we could fortify the perimeter most effectively. Other voices chimed in, some offering to send us bags of dog hair. We slathered the patch with pee (the boys enjoyed this aspect immensely) and rimmed it with reflective tape and mesh fencing. We hung a pie tin from a stake. The owl and its cousin, Creepy the Squirrel, got into the game to rough up the hordes of rodentia.
The creatures, whatever they were, kept at it. Finally, the truth dawned. Birds! Filthy, dirty, disgusting boids! Then we got "scare eye."
Scare-eye was no joke! It hung from an old fence pole next to the pumpkin patch, making the whole decrepit scene look even more like Lil' Appalachia. Occasionally the scarecrow's head would fall off into the mud, and its paws (encased in awful gardening gloves) were often resting near its privates.
Amidst this horror, one tiny pumpkin emerged and began to grow. It grew bigger! It turned orange! It was a beauty. It was worth all the pain and frustration. Then one day it immediately rotted on the vine and was chucked into the compost.
That was it. Our dream was over. We dismantled the leering scarecrow and left its body parts on the garage floor. Creepy the Squirrel was banished to the Hosta patch, where he waits to bite the unwary skunk. Scare-eye was unhooked from its pole and sent away, where it can do no more harm. Only the owl stays, wearing a slightly rakish fedora hat, to guard the one remaining pumpkin plant. This last, poor specimen has a few wan male flowers, but females have not emerged.
In retrospect, I should have bought that Jesus statue I saw at a tag sale around the corner. Jesus would have protected our pumpkins, with the Owl as his mute disciple. Together, they could have triumphed! A Mary on the Half Shell would have been the perfect complement, perhaps with a garden gnome or two as protection. Next year, Jesus, you will have a place in our garden, where you will smite the feathered host with deadly bolts of lightning and fiery hail!
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