punch the chunks
Oct. 8th, 2022 07:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brandywine28- So I guess one of the people working at my favorite local cheese shop is a secret comedy genius? It's a family run place -- a husband and wife and their twenty-something son, and I've never gotten that vibe from a single one of them. They're all nice and normal-ish. Just friendly enough. But, I mean, those posts don't lie. They're priceless and I'm obsessed, and also kind of identifying with a wheel of Mimolette at the moment. Should I say something next time I'm in there?
- Anyway. Speaking of my last entry's title (which, no, we weren't. But we could've been! Dare I say, we *should've* been!)...does anyone remember an SNL skit from the late nineties with Will Ferrell as a night nurse? He spent the whole thing crooning Bob Dylan's Lay, Lady, Lay to his patient, who I wanna say was...Robert Duvall? And it went on and on and on, from funny, to unfunny and then back to funny again? Ugh, no one does. No one remembers this thing but me! And I can't find it and it's all I can think about! This is the worst pain anyone has ever suffered. I deserve your sympathy. I demand your sympathy.
- I just found out they shut down my favorite Lush! The one by the big Macy's! Now I have to go all the way down to 14th Street to finagle my free samples! ("All the way". It's two extra subway stops. But I'm annoyed!) (Also, I'm allergic to half the items in their holiday collection this year. Stupid food dyes. So, doubly annoyed!)
OK, so. The birthday. It went alright! They're never really as bad as I think they're gonna be. Except for the ones where someone dies. Which has happened. I didn't magically wake up looking like the cryptkeeper that morning -- YAY. Not that that's a thing I'd ever freely admit.
To caring.
About.
At all.
Because nope, I don't. Not one bit. And anyway, my mother is aging, like, fantastically. Her skin looks amazing. And then you find out she spent the entire 1970s laying out in the sun with nothing but a big hat and God's own mercy to protect her, and you're like, WHAT. But what's weird is that I forget. I do. I honestly forget sometimes that I'm not her direct clone. We're so close and my father's people are such a strange, faraway concept to me, it's easy to forget that half my DNA is just. Unquantifiable. I have a few, fuzzy memories of my dad's mother. Mostly I remember platinum hair. Scary red talons. A lot of fur. This woman was committed to her aesthetic and apparently that aesthetic was: Cuban Cruella.
I guess I wish I'd paid better attention to her face.
Next week it'll be twenty five years since my dad died, and if there's a standard way to commemorate something like that, I don't know what it is. I don't even know if I'd be up for it. I'm still so angry at him; it hasn't gone away or died down at all. If anything, I'm angrier now than I was fifteen, twenty years ago, and it makes it impossible to mourn him properly. One more thing to discuss with that therapist I refuse to pay for.
And...there she is. My headache, right on schedule. I knew she'd find me. I was gonna go into the apartment stuff, I really was, but...maybe y'all won't mind if I raincheck this? Prepare yourselves, though, because next time, you're gonna hear a tale of woe and real estate! Featuring: the NYPD! Veterans of foreign wars! And at least one ghost! A SPOOKY STORY FOR THE SPOOKIEST SEASON. OOOOooooOOOoooh!!
- Anyway. Speaking of my last entry's title (which, no, we weren't. But we could've been! Dare I say, we *should've* been!)...does anyone remember an SNL skit from the late nineties with Will Ferrell as a night nurse? He spent the whole thing crooning Bob Dylan's Lay, Lady, Lay to his patient, who I wanna say was...Robert Duvall? And it went on and on and on, from funny, to unfunny and then back to funny again? Ugh, no one does. No one remembers this thing but me! And I can't find it and it's all I can think about! This is the worst pain anyone has ever suffered. I deserve your sympathy. I demand your sympathy.
- I just found out they shut down my favorite Lush! The one by the big Macy's! Now I have to go all the way down to 14th Street to finagle my free samples! ("All the way". It's two extra subway stops. But I'm annoyed!) (Also, I'm allergic to half the items in their holiday collection this year. Stupid food dyes. So, doubly annoyed!)
OK, so. The birthday. It went alright! They're never really as bad as I think they're gonna be. Except for the ones where someone dies. Which has happened. I didn't magically wake up looking like the cryptkeeper that morning -- YAY. Not that that's a thing I'd ever freely admit.
To caring.
About.
At all.
Because nope, I don't. Not one bit. And anyway, my mother is aging, like, fantastically. Her skin looks amazing. And then you find out she spent the entire 1970s laying out in the sun with nothing but a big hat and God's own mercy to protect her, and you're like, WHAT. But what's weird is that I forget. I do. I honestly forget sometimes that I'm not her direct clone. We're so close and my father's people are such a strange, faraway concept to me, it's easy to forget that half my DNA is just. Unquantifiable. I have a few, fuzzy memories of my dad's mother. Mostly I remember platinum hair. Scary red talons. A lot of fur. This woman was committed to her aesthetic and apparently that aesthetic was: Cuban Cruella.
I guess I wish I'd paid better attention to her face.
Next week it'll be twenty five years since my dad died, and if there's a standard way to commemorate something like that, I don't know what it is. I don't even know if I'd be up for it. I'm still so angry at him; it hasn't gone away or died down at all. If anything, I'm angrier now than I was fifteen, twenty years ago, and it makes it impossible to mourn him properly. One more thing to discuss with that therapist I refuse to pay for.
And...there she is. My headache, right on schedule. I knew she'd find me. I was gonna go into the apartment stuff, I really was, but...maybe y'all won't mind if I raincheck this? Prepare yourselves, though, because next time, you're gonna hear a tale of woe and real estate! Featuring: the NYPD! Veterans of foreign wars! And at least one ghost! A SPOOKY STORY FOR THE SPOOKIEST SEASON. OOOOooooOOOoooh!!
no subject
Date: 2022-10-08 12:06 pm (UTC)But woe at your favourite Lush shop closing and being allergic to some of the Christmas range. I was in my local one getting a present for Kayleigh's birthday and they were temping me with Karma gifts sets. Do they not realise I don't have the money to splash out for no reason!? Temptresses, the lot of them.
My nanna had beautiful skin with few wrinkles for her age when she died at 97. I hope I age like her. I'm sure you'll age like your mom too and will look fantastic.
I forgot to say, whoever does the cheese shop insta posts is amazing. They kept me enthralled for a long time.
no subject
Date: 2022-10-08 12:39 pm (UTC)Glad your birthday went alright. Goals, truly.
Best wishes for next week's potential emotional... stuff. That sounds rough, buddy.
You know I'm always here for ghost stories.
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Date: 2022-10-10 04:13 pm (UTC)I don't think I realised how angry I was with my father until it was too late to say anything. But I do recommend therapy - Beast and I went to one to discuss our son's difficulties and what we could best do for him, and I ended up telling her Stuff, and felt a lot better afterwards.
I... hmm. Don't think I can bring myself to proffer my sympathy for the loss of a Will Ferrell sketch. But the loss of a handy Lush is quite another matter. *shares your woe*
The cheese stuff is excellent!
no subject
Date: 2022-10-13 06:21 am (UTC)I'm really glad to hear therapy worked out for you (and I hope for Beast as well!). I do not excel at talking about myself even when money isn't changing hands, so if I'm paying for the privilege? I just don't know how that'll go! You're right, though; it's definitely something to consider.
Yup, I've got that Will Ferrell Woe and it's EMBARRASSING and UNFUN. It wouldn't be so bad if I could just find the thing online, convince myself it was never funny in the first place, and move on! Grrr.
I don't know if those posts actually made me hungrier for cheese, but they absolutely made me wanna spend more money in that shop!
no subject
Date: 2022-10-13 06:32 am (UTC)I mean, I shoved some very tasty brick oven pizza into my face, and no one died, so...yeah. Goals.
Oh, I'm angry at him every day. Actively and constantly. It has nothing to do with the anniversary. (But thanks. <3)
Much scariness. So, so spooky. :)
no subject
Date: 2022-10-13 06:52 am (UTC)I'm telling you, it's those dang food dyes! They don't even serve any purpose -- and they're in everything! I really wanted to try Elf Shake, but after reading the ingredient list, I fear it would literally melt the skin off my back. I'm planning to console myself with some Hot Toddy, though. And God help me, they put out a Snow Fairy lip balm this year and -- !! I probably won't even manage to get over there for another couple of weeks, and my wallet is already crying.
You're sweet. <333
Omg, you read them! I swear, I'm going to be so heartbroken if I found out they've outsourced their social media and aren't actually the ones behind all this. I mean, it's a pretty small scale shop, so I feel like they wouldn't have...? But we sure do live in a world these days, so who knows?