Anyway, this is how everything turned out.

After obsessively checking for views re-reading old blog entries last week, I came to realize that a lot happened during my unplanned anxiety hiatus that I probably would have told you about if I hadn’t been so busy lying on my couch watching TV shows about people with botched plastic surgery. So before I jump right back in with well-spun tales of my exotic life (TODAY I FOUND A CUP FILLED WITH MILK SO SPOILED THAT IT HAD BASICALLY BECOME SENTIENT CHEESE), I thought I’d take a moment to catch you up on a few things.

  • After months of complaining about it, we finally did something about the lack of tumbleweeds of fur against our baseboards and got ourselves a dog. Her name is Penny and her hobbies include eating and subsequently pooping out socks, cat wrestling, and aggro-snuggling.

    Penny Coco

    Okay, so this is not exactly the best picture of her? But I feel it is an accurate representation of her daily life, and also a tender depiction of cross-species love.

  • In the time it took me to scrape myself back together, Addie finished kindergarten and first grade, and this year will be submitting her thesis on the rise of the novel in 18th century literature (I think that’s what you do in the second grade, right?). She is also still a Girl Scout, and has even camped out overnight, while I still have a panic attack every time I have to turn on the iron.

    Rosie, meanwhile, has not aged at all, nor hit any major milestones other than becoming super obsessed with the concept of growing boobies, so she’s got a lot going on right now, too.

    Rosie Bbs

    Rosie has been freeing the nipple since before freeing the nipple was cool.

  • Spoiler alert – I never lost any weight, and I forgot all the Spanish I learned, and my skin is worse than ever, but I did finally break down and start getting my hair professionally colored, so at least now I look like a complete mess with highlights.

    Stupid Arty Selfie

    This is supposed to be a super art-y selfie? But honestly I just sort of look like an elderly relative is talking to me about the importance of flood insurance. There is an alternate version with my mouth slightly ajar, like you see sexy ladies doing on Instagram, but on me it’s less flirty and more mentally unhinged.

  • Wow, okay, is this really all that has happened to me in the course of like 16 months? I really thought there would be more than this. I was counting on a whole big list of like awesome accomplishments and shit, but I cannot think of a single other thing. BASICALLY TWO BABIES COULD HAVE BEEN BORN IN THIS TIME AND ALL I DID WAS GET A DOG AND WATCH MY KID PROGRESS NATURALLY THROUGH GRADE LEVELS OH MY GOD ADULTHOOD IS A DEATH TRAP.
  • The other night I had a dream that I was riding the bus with President Obama, and he had full sleeve tattoos on both forearms, and one of the forearms just said OBAMA in really big ornate letters, and I was like, wow, one would not have guessed that he had these sleeve tattoos.
  • Oh! I went to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter! That’s a thing that is definitely cool that you probably didn’t get to do! So there! I’m still relevant!

Okay, so it turns out that you basically missed nothing. Now that we’re all caught up, I can move on to all of my latest and greatest exploits.  For the rest of 2017, it’s nothing but life-changing middle-aged-lady magic! I’m gonna climb some stuff! Maybe symbolically…burn something, I don’t know. I’m gonna impress the shit out of you with all my amazing life events!

I’m gonna start with some sleeve tattoos. Or maybe a nap.

Do you think Jon Hamm would like me in real life: Monologue for a brain

[Curtain rises on a stage pitch black except a dim spotlight on a woman in a rumpled but comfortable-looking bed. She leans over and turns on her sound machine—winter wind—and snaps off the small lamp on the nightstand, cocooning herself in the blankets and preparing for sleep. Just as it appears that she is drifting off, a loud, unsettling voice comes over the loudspeaker.]

Brain: Hey, I see you’re almost through with your relaxation routine? Which is cool and everything, but I just thought I’d remind you that one day your parents are going to die. I don’t know if you want to spend a few minutes going over those scenarios, but I’m going to assume that you do, so please watch these horrifying daydreams capturing what it might be like in your parents’ last moments. Enjoy! [A screen descends from the ceiling, displaying silent, flickering images of the woman in the bed crying dramatically while leaves drift past a window streaked with rain.]

I wonder what it would be like to have just like a really big dog. Like comically big, like a Great Dane or some other kind of dog. I wonder if you could ride it like a horse. Why don’t you get up and go get your phone and see if there are any dogs so big that you can ride them like horses? No? Okay. Maybe in the morning.

This pillow is too hot. But the other side of it is too cold. It might help if you flopped around like an electrified fish for a few minutes to get everything just right.

Do you think Jon Hamm would like me in real life? I feel like he would, but then again, I honestly can’t tell, because it seems like he might also be a little bit of a douchebag. Would you like to spend some time fantasizing about a road trip you and Jon Hamm would take together that would mostly consist of you singing along with the radio and him in awe of how fantastic your singing voice is? Yes? I feel like the answer to this one is always yes. [The images on the screen change to the woman in the bed sitting in a car with Jon Hamm, who is smiling at her raptly as she sings along with “Love Will Keep Us Together” by the Captain and Tennille, too lost in the song to notice his look of obvious adoration.]

You know, I want to be thin, but I also want to eat everything.

Are you sure you don’t want to play a few more games of Best Fiends? Because I feel like you’re so close to solving this level. The magic might be gone if you try it again in the morning.

Oh, your kids are also going to die one day, BTW. Just thought you might want to know.

OMG I JUST THOUGHT OF A COMEBACK TO THE SHITTY THING THAT WOMAN SAID TO YOU AT WORK TODAY. Here are several versions of how it could have played out if you had actually gotten to use this, instead of just blinking back tears until you got into your office and then sobbing like a wussy babyperson. All versions are highly satisfying, but I think you’ll especially enjoy the one where everyone around stands up and slow claps after you deliver your devastating retort and disappear into your office. [The images on the screen transition now to a scene in a maze of cubicles, each with a person’s head visible over the top. First one person, far from the action, claps once, almost sarcastically, but soon enough, everyone has joined in, and the shitty woman, chastened, runs away, crying so hard that tears shoot straight out of her eye sockets with the intensity of a garden hose.]

Wouldn’t it be cool to just, like, walk across the whole United States? I bet you’d be so thin at the end. And have so many wise revelations. You could write a book about it. Never mind that you can only walk for like five miles at a time before your legs turn into rubber bands and then you walk around like someone broke your kneecaps with a hammer for the rest of the day.

How do they make cheese? Isn’t cheese just, like, spoiled milk? I don’t understand cheese, and I don’t like it.

Holy shit, it is 2:00 in the morning. What is your problem? You blew it.


My Friday with Harry Pawter

I’ve been sitting at my computer for the last half an hour trying to come up with a clever way to introduce this topic, but I can’t, so I’ll just say it– OMG YOU GUYS PUPPIES CAME TO MY WORK TODAY AND IT WAS THE GREATEST EXPERIENCE OF MY ENTIRE WORKING LIFE! It turns out my company never had to promote me, or give me raises or an office– if they had just given me puppies, I would have continued working indefinitely for the starting salary I got straight out of grad school.

This magical encounter happened courtesy of Uber– for $30, they would show up at your office with puppies and let them romp around for 15 minutes. I had heard tell of this magical event before, but as a person over the age of 27, I think I am actually not legally permitted to use Uber, so I had to rely on the Young People to make this happen. And it did– right as I walked into a meeting with HR.

I got the first text just as I was sitting down: THE DOGS ARE ON THEIR WAY YOU HAVE TO COME NOW

I looked around the room, evaluating the situation– the meeting didn’t really pertain to me, per se, but I am not the kind of person who just walks out of meetings, especially not if I am one of only a few people invited. I texted back: I don’t think I can, can you stall them?

It only took a few seconds for the next text to come in: THE ONE DOG’S NAME IS HARRY PAWTER.

There is really only one response to that. I’ll be right down, I said.

And then I got up and, without ceremony, left the meeting, making hasty apologies and hinting at a vague disaster on my floor, which there was, because THE FLOOR WAS EMPTY BECAUSE EVERYONE ON IT WAS DOWN IN THE LOBBY PLAYING WITH THE PUPPIES EXCEPT ME.

And when I got down to the lobby there were two hound puppies there and everyone was acting like they were five years old and people were physically rolling around on the ground with the puppies and squealing and taking selfies with the puppies and IT WAS EVEN BETTER THAN THE TIME THAT A SINGING TELEGRAM DRESSED AS A GORILLA SHOWED UP FOR GINA’S 30TH BIRTHDAY, which is saying a lot, because singing primates are generally considered pretty rare.

And I’m fairly positive that no more work was done for the rest of the day, but how could you really expect anyone to be productive after puppies?