A True Original

Sorry for my absence this week, guys, but the truth is, I have nothing to report that does not in some way contain the thought “But I feel so baaaaad.”

And no one wants to hear that.

(That’s why I take it out on Facebook! YOU’RE WELCOME.)

Baby Powell (or Baby Perkins, if you prefer), who is now roughly the size of a blueberry, nevertheless has the ability to jack up my digestive system beyond all sense and reason. For instance, I have a real problem with McDonald’s – I don’t like their marketing practices, I don’t like the way they affect the environment and I don’t like the way they influence the beef industry of which my family used to be a part. So Baby Perk was never (or at least very rarely) going to eat McDonald’s. Yep, I’m that hippie mama who is going to cloth diaper her child, vaccinate him on an alternate schedule, feed him out of glass bottles, let his hair grow long and never give him a Happy Meal. Please don’t call CPS on me.

Anyway, they say you should write all your plans for your child in pencil, and they ain’t lyin’, because the only food that consistently sounds good and stays down is McDonald’s cheeseburgers (no onions).

DAMN.

IT.

ALL.

So now my precious tree-hugging baby, who was never going to know the super-sized deliciousness of an all-beef patty with special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles and onions on a sesame seed bun, is getting a steady diet of pretty much nothing BUT McDonald’s.

(See above re. DAMN IT ALL.)

Other than waiting in the McDonald’s drive-through line and barfing, I’ve been peeing. Baby Perk is juuuuust large enough now to occupy real estate that used to belong to my bladder.

My existence is too sexy for color television.

So that’s why I haven’t written much for fun lately. I’m using all available energy reserves to a) do my work b) unwrap cheeseburgers c) maintain the minimum standards of hygiene and d) shamble to the bathroom like a zombie.

—-

But today, we celebrate someone who was not dumb enough to go and get herself knocked up (ON PURPOSE, no less), someone who, a very long time ago, taught me the true meaning of “Bachelor Girl” and who has almost as many talents as she does admirers.

Jennifer!

Today is her birthday, and I want to tell the world (and her) a few of the reasons I love her so much.

1. She’s aces with a sewing machine…

2. …and a soldering iron.

3. She abhors Chekhov characters. You know, those people who sit around and bitch and bitch and bitch about EVERYTHING and who insist they’re so much better/smarter/more talented/more sophisticated/more inspired than everyone else, but who never actually DO anything?

Jennifer just gets up and DOES something about it.

4. She likes starting businesses as much as I do. She’s currently beating me by one (she owns a freelance video editing business, the jewelry shop and the hat shop), but I’m doing my best to catch up to her.

5. She loves Disney World and University of Alabama football with an unmatched passion.

6. She believes there’s no such thing as too many hobbies.

7. She can rock a pleather bodysuit like nobody’s business.

8. We have matching tattoos.

9. She loves dying her hair.

10. She makes everyone around her happy, and I love her very, very much. Baby Perk’s going to have one heck of a fabulous aunt.

Now quit reading this drivel and go put on that Diane von Furstenberg dress Swell Nathan likes so much!

I believe SOMEONE has a dinner to get ready for!

Your admiring
Poppet