Thursday, July 12, 2012

Sleep Advice And A Very, Very Short Book Review

Sweet, sweet sleep last night and I admit I helped it along with two Benadryl.
I love Benadryl. It is cheap and if you don't use it too often, it induces (in me, at least) the dreamiest sleep. I may wake up in the night but the way I feel, lying there in my bed, is so lovely that it doesn't bother me to be awake and then I drift off again, recaptured by something as dense and soft as my down pillows, only for the soul instead of the head, and it is, quite frankly, heaven.

Our beloved Ms. Bastard and I agreed the other day that sleeping is our hobby. Hobbies should be worked at with determination and enjoyment. This, I do.

Anyway, the result of this medicated sleep is that I feel renewed today and as if my tiny little heart had been massaged with the fingers of cherubs. Or something.
Speaking of cherubs, yesterday when I was at Lily's house Owen was running around naked, as he is wont to do and I was sitting on his bed with Gibson while Lily grabbed a three-minute shower. Owen came and laid across the bed and said, "Scratch my back."
"Okay," I said. "I would love to scratch your back. Then he added, "Not my butt."
So I did what he asked and then I said, "Does that feel good?"
"Yes," he said.
It did to me, too.
He has a fine back, that little boy.
He has a fine butt, too, but I did not scratch it.

We also went to the library, me and Lily and the boys. The Big Library. That was fun. And then we went to lunch at the sushi place because we're eating all healthy and shit (I should just start shortening this to EAHAS, also, I am loving acronyms today, my favorite being FUBAR which stands for fucked up beyond all recognition or fucked up beyond any repair or fucked up beyond all reason) and once again Owen astounded me by eating a large quantity of California roll (with the kid chopsticks) and a bowl of miso soup. Also, some of my salad with the ginger dressing.
Owen and I love a couch they have at the sushi place. It's in the bar area and it is, quite frankly, the most comfy couch I have ever had the pleasure to lower my butt onto. Owen and I always make sure to sit on this couch and discuss its incredible comfort. Yesterday I said, "Owen, I'd like to take this couch home with me." He said something along the lines of No can, it's not your couch.
"True," I said. "Also, it is too heavy. Even if they gave it to me, I couldn't carry it."
He thought about this for a moment. Then he said, "You need a tow truck!"
Well, exactly.
Then he pointed out the disco ball in the ceiling. Yes. They have a disco ball at the sushi place. I told him it was a disco ball. He said, "That make a party."
Now where in hell did he learn about disco balls?
Who knows? Not me.

So that was the really good stuff from yesterday and it was good stuff and like almost all good stuff, it was made up of tiny moments with people whom I adore.

The rest of the day, not so much. That visit with Mother, and I was so depressed that I made the most bizarre dinner involving leftovers that I don't even wish to discuss but I will say that the chickens are enjoying the result today. I did make a loaf of VERY HEARTY bread to go with it all so it wasn't a complete waste and we watched another episode of Deadwood and then I went to bed and started reading another Alexander McCall Smith book I'd gotten from the library and damn! That man writes 'em as fast as I can read 'em. I just finished up another book called Love Monkey by Kyle Smith. I really enjoyed that book although it was written from the perspective of a guy in love with a woman who was obviously a completely irrational and crazy bitch. I loved the writing style of Mr. Smith. His humor is dry like sand and that pleases me.
My favorite lines in the entire book come when the protagonist calls a friend of his and gets his answering machine.
He's not there. "Hi," he says on the machine. "We're at the hospital having a baby so we'll get back to you later."
Not that I have some sort of aching primal-chick need to have a baby or anything but I do get the sense that Mike is accomplishing more than I am today.

All right. If you don't find that funny, you probably won't like the book. See how much time I have saved you?

Speaking of time, it's getting away from me. I've been up for many hours and all I've done is take a walk and tend to the chickens (i.e. give them last night's leftovers). I have nowhere I have to go today and nothing I have to do. This is heaven and I think I'll clean out the refrigerator. EAHAS takes up a lot of refrigerator room because vegetables and fruits take up a lot of space and I can't find a damn thing in there, plus there are mystery juices in places there should not be. You know what I'm talking about.
Ick. It is not FUBAR but it is most definitely SNAFU.

Love you dearly...Ms. Moon


  1. Oh, the dreaded mystery juice.

    I can't hardly read fiction anymore. Oh well.

  2. Stephanie- I would die without fiction. Maybe.
    I hate mystery juice. It's disgusting.

  3. George Carlin had some very funny things to say about what is found in refrigerators. He called asparagus 'slimy Lincoln logs' and he feared the empty plate-what was on the plate and where did it go?

    But mystery juice-ug.I'm with you there.

  4. Wow, do I have a lot to catch up on! But slowly I will do that. Glad that all is well. I am emerging.

  5. I also very much love dry humor.
    Maybe I'll go buy some Benadryl this weekend and see if it works for me also. However, I really don't recall it doing anything more than making me sleepy but I do recognize the feelings you refer to while sleeping. Nice.

  6. Beth- I miss George Carlin but that seems ungrateful. We had him when we had him and he gave us his all. Or at least an awful lot!
    Mystery juice is all gone.

    Syd- I have missed you and your voice. Truly.

    Rubye Jack- Oh, I am only referring to the sweet sleepiness. Nothing else. I just love that feeling.


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