Things I Don't Understand, Items 344 thru 346

344. DIRT FOR SALE signs
345. The ruckus around David Beckham's tummy
346. How seriously Heather Armstrong and Cami take themselves when they do "The Camilla Series" on Dooce

Cooper Being Daniel Day Lewis in The Last of the Mohicans

Here he is seen traipsing through the forest, nude, hunting wild boar.

"The loin cloth they forced me to wear was more confining than a Trader Joe's parking lot," he says, shortly before ricocheting himself off the side of a cliff using nothing but a twig, Madelaine Stowe's miracle bra and his own ponytail.

Monday Judgements and Warnings

Just because your name is Sara and you spell it Cerraeh does not mean you will be able to get away with making small talk about kale forever.

Even if you give a mini lecture about lemon verbena in order to cause a distraction so you can cut in front of a confused elderly person and no one else but me, The Unhip Judger, sees you.

Eventually something will happen to out you as the selfish poop butt you are because after you wiggle in front of the old lady waiting in line to buy whole milk and you swoosh in with your nine million items while carrying on about the injustice of "bad cotton" and you think you've done it---you've gotten away without being exposed---the checker will ask you to clarify the spelling of your name and you will say:

Sara.  C-E-R-R-A-E-H.

And shoppers within miles will shake their heads in disbelief and think OK now, come ON---THAT is going a bit too far.

And you'll laugh nervously sensing the quick and serious dissension in your midst and you'll try to connect with Whole Milk Old Lady to no avail and then scurry on out to your Prius making sure not to trip on your silky moo moo.

Stop the madness,
Pat Plain

Sunday Prayer

For some reason, Sundays conjure up my dad for me.  And by conjure up, I mean that on Sunday afternoons I especially miss him.  When he was alive and thriving, if I had not already seen him for breakfast on Sunday morning, Sunday evening was the time that we would catch up and tell each other about our day.  We'd regale each other with our interpretations of Meet the Press.  We'd talk about how annoying the wind was.  We'd argue about which of his grandchildren was cuter and invariably agree that each of them were perfect. And we'd always, always, always comment on the moon. 

We are the moon's fan club--- you and me, he would say.

He went from being wise and big and clever to weak and shaky and small in, what feels like, one week.  I know the reality is that my sister and I lost him, slowly, over a long period of time but looking back it doesn't feel that way.  It feels like we lost him from one moment to the next and it is this thought that hasn't lessened since his death.

It's like he disappeared suddenly without notice but we also lost him slowly and painfully over a long period of time. 

Both my sister and I have grappled with this thought since my father died and so tonight when I made sure to get everything done in order to hear Jane Gross talk about her book A Bittersweet Season on NPR's On Being and I heard her express so many of the exact same feelings and thoughts and fears and confusion around what it is like to nurse your dying parent into the grave I felt so much comfort --- in a very dense way. 

And so this is my prayer for this Sunday evening---that as I take each stumbly confused step on my travel time here with the moon watching --- that I will be given information in the form of another person's story that makes me feel less alone and ultimately stronger and more acclimated to my loss and that this might happen for so many others as well.

When In Doubt-Merge,
Mable of the Moving Forwards

Friday Conclusion

In the evenings---especially on Holy Friday Evenings---the Cupcake household likes to sit and talk and schmooze and dally and kibbutz and relax and unwind and relish the fact that IT IS FRIDAY and it is the end of the week. 

I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU BUT THE CUPCAKES THINK FRIDAYS ARE FIRST RATE.

For example, there is one person in particular that thinks Fridays are for throwing Sharkey.  May we interest you in throwing Sharkey, perhaps?  He is our precious.

But sometimes, in our We Love Our Friday time we don't notice Sharkey and we tidy up and we think about what we will eat for supper and we just hang out and breathe.  HOWEVER there is one of us who has one thing on his mind and that thing starts with a big fat fuckin' S.

THROW IT FUCKERS little mister Sharkey keeper says.  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THROW IT! But we go on about our business, trying to keep our focus and trying to not buy into ALL SHARKEY ALL THE TIME thinking. Alas, we cannot be untouched by that certain one of us who has a burning desire for Brilliant Fun Sharkey Time:

THROW IT!!! THROW SHARKEY YOU FUCKERS!!! I PROMISE YOU WE WILL HAVE GREAT FUN!!!

And then we have a little go round---around the couch and there is some action where Sharkey is concerned.  HOWEVER there is ultimately a pause in the Sharkey action and this is where the focused one starts in again---wearing us down with his unbridled devotion to Sharkey Time. I mean for the love of god do I have to look at the bookcase to throw Sharkey for me?

Or maybe I should remind you that I know Tony Soprano:

And as time progresses and pressure commences there are a rainbow of tactics and strategies employed designed to make Sharkey Time happen

 until ultimately we realize the deep deep heartfelt importance that Sharkey Time represents and we give a toss or two as we are settling in and cooking supper and this makes the Sharkey Addict happy for moments at a time until we are finished with our fiddling and we finally get the message and we take a good solid cheer leading chunk of time and we throw Sharkey until we can't throw Sharkey anymore and all of us are tuckered out.  Which brings me to my point and my conclusion:

THERE JUST ISN'T ANY FEELING IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD THAT CAN COMPARE TO THE FEELING WHEN SOMEONE YOU LOVE TURNS THEIR FOCUS TOWARD YOU AND SHINES A WIDE BRIGHT LIGHT ON WHAT BRINGS YOU THE MOST JOY AND MAKES YOU THE MOST HAPPY AND THEN DOES WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE YOUR YEEHAW COME TO FRUITION.

Be on the lookout, Sweet Peas,
Gary of the Gallant

Cooper Being a Motorboat

"KEEP YOUR HANDS, FEET AND NOSES INSIDE THE VESSEL AT ALL TIMES!" he commands as he pulls out into the harbor.

Tuesday Expert Advice

Dear Cupcake,

Recently I asked my husband if he would accompany me to the Indigo Girls concert thinking he would likely offer to scrub the bizarre little space between the oven and the kitchen floor instead but he, without flinching and with TOTAL enthusiasm, said:  SURE! THAT SOUNDS AMAZING! and so I was wondering if there is some sort of wildlife organization I should contact in order to register my fine fellow as an endangered species or should I simply be certain that there is a spot reserved for him in The Smithsonian so others might observe this rare and heroic individual for generations to come?
---Constant Smiley Face in Smyrna

Dear Smiley,
No.
Good luck,
Cupcake

Monday Judgements and Warnings

Excuse me while I slip into my Harsh and Hideous Reality outfit but you need to be aware that when you gallop along in the Chips-Snacks-Crackers aisle in Ralph's like you're National Velvet and you are brazen enough to pick up a JUMBO BUILDING SIZED bag of TOSTITOS Hint of Lime tortilla chips and you get all uppity with your healthy kale-eating self and you think bull crap like:

Stone Ground White Corn!
Made with Whole Grains!
No MSG!
No Preservatives!
All Natural Ingredients!

is true and these mother fuckers of delight will not take you down faster than you can say MY ASS IS THE SIZE OF NEBRASKA then you are fooling yourself my friend and I have nothing further to say to you other than I'll see you in the baby carrot section.

Whoever said being thin is being happy, soldier?
Admiral Astounding Arse

Saturday SlobberLove

Sometimes on Saturday, after we've witnessed the conflict that can occur between the two boss humans we live with ---when one of the humans totally forgets that the other human and their canine are out on a walk thinking they will return home to the other human waiting because that is what the humans discussed and agreed upon: 

Ok here I go on a walk for just a bit will you be home?  YES! I'll be home! No need to bring your key I'll be right here not going anywhere NO NOT GOING ANYWHERE WHATSOEVER so please stop asking if I am going anywhere you DO NOT need to bring your key I repeat you do not need your key.

BUT! the other human who said he would be waiting and even made it seem bizarre that we were even questioning whether or not he would be waiting has left to get his hair cut leaving a handy note that the now homeless human and canine who left cannot see because they HAVE BEEN LOCKED OUT OF THE HOUSE---LOCKED OUT OF THEIR SHELTER WHERE WATER IS AND A TOILET IS AND WHERE COMFY BLANKETS ARE...

When we witness this kind of upheaval and confusion because the stupid one who left and forgot to leave a key for the now homeless 2/3rds of the tribe --- when this one who has the key acts like an asshole to the traumatized and exhausted human and canine upon his return because he is defensive---we just know that we must be near to this defensive and wrong one because the other human (the girl human) is still fuming and we know that we are the only friend the stupid ass defensive mean human  has and we see it as our duty, as a man dog---a LOYAL man dog, to be near to our brother The Hated One until the conflict passes and we know in our heart that the Angry Bitter One is not offended that we are being with the Forgetful Inconsiderate One because we know in her heart she is happy we are keeping him company.

All in a day's work I suppose,
Murray the Mediating Mongrel

Things I Don't Understand, Items 341 thru 343

341. Splenda
342. The Phil Collins song Sussudio
343. Why no one mentions the fact that Harry Reid is actually Piglet

Cooper Being Elizabeth Taylor in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

"COME OVER HERE AND GIVE ME A KISS ON THE LIPS, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" he yells, before wondering aloud why he seems to have a hard time maintaining a healthy relationship.

Things I Like More Than Rupert Murdoch

1. Being forced to compete in a truck pull
2. Overdraft charges
3. Steel wool massages in my anus
4. Falling into a well filled with angry monkeys
5. Formaldehyde perfume

Monday Judgements and Warnings

The other day I saw a personalized license plate that said, simply:

POSTURE

and I thought, now that is either the most helpful person on earth OR the biggest buttinsky I have ever seen.  And I made it a point to sit up REAL GODDAMN BEAUTY QUEEN STRAIGHT as I sped past them on the right.

It's my party and I'll slouch if I want to,
Henrietta Humpstein

Saturday SlobberLove

Do NOT tell anyone this but sometimes, on a road trip, I long to see one of my beloved Runaway Truck Ramp signs because I feel a sort of camaraderie with them as if we are brethren---

GET OUTTA THE WAY!  SHE'S GONNA CAREEN AND CRASH---WATCH OUT! WHOA! SHE'S GOT NO BRAKES!!! WHAT THE HELL SET HER OFF THIS TIME? THOSE FUCKING ZIP LOCK BAGS THAT DON'T CLOSE? THE FACT THAT HER HUSBAND DOES NOT UNDERSTAND HOW TO DO LAUNDRY? WHY SOMEONE KEEPS PUTTING STINKY TRASH IN THE RECYLING BIN? RUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNN! SHE'S OUTTA CONTROL!!!! SHE DON'T MAKE NO SENSE!!!

And I picture myself installing a runaway truck ramp in my house ---a nice slide that would go directly from my bedroom balcony, down across the street I live on where I would soar like Willy Wonka across the neighborhood and be delivered softly to the nice cool grass park near the ocean.

Yours In Righteous Escape,
Alison Alone Time

Things I Don't Understand, Items 338 thru 340

338. Ballroom dancing
339. How flaccid and unpredictable life was before Chip Clips
340. Why the interviewer always looks like such a weirdo when they do that stupid cut away shot during an interview

Cooper Being Bo Derek in "10"

"I apologize in advance for being so gorgeous," he says, jiggling in all the right places.

Tuesday Expert Advice

Dear Cupcake,

I'm trying to make sure I'm ready if I happen to be the first person on earth to bump into an alien from outer space and I know that there are certain universal code words that translate across the galaxies, such as "Costco" means "big angry carts" and "Hugh Hefner" means "Blecchhhh".  My question is, what is the universal martian phrase for "white"?---is it "Dog the Bounty Hunter's wife's hair" or "the spectators at Wimbledon"? 
---Anxious and Clammy in Coronado

Dear Clammy,
No.
Good Luck,
Cupcake

Saturday SlobberLove

Sometimes on Saturday, when we feel blue and tender for no particular reason, we like to pretend we're Henry David Throreau, all alone in the woods, and we picture our cozy house and the wood table where we'd eat our peaches and the worn soft bowls we'd use for cereal and how we'd keep our boots right outside the front door even in the pouring rain and how we'd sit---quiet---each evening as the sun went down and how we'd be able to handle all the lonely with complete grace as we gazed out our windows sheathed in lovely curtains and then we remember that AFTER WEEKS OF SEARCHING AND CHECKING we finally found our beloved Frederic Fekkai Full Volume Shampoo at CVS and we get giddy with joy and we think Oh who needs those scary old woods? and we dream about how we'll have a nice glass of Cabernet with our dinner.

Be Here Now-ish,
Sandy Superficial