Knowing Me Knowing You OR Why Are You Looking at Me Like That? F*** Off!

Anyone who read my last post and thought 'go away and have a freakin' frozen yogurt or something and come back when you're in a better mood' is going to be disappointed. Although it turns out my yawning existential Nietzchean crisis is probably just PMS, which is equally as annoying but somewhat less glamorous. I've eaten my body weight in salted cashews in the last four days. I walk around cooking or cleaning the kitchen and eating cashews every time I pass the container, then I put the lid on the container so I won't eat any more, than ten seconds later my hand hits the lid and I wonder who the asshole is who put the lid on the cashew container because the cashews are the only thing keeping me from ripping my face off and throwing it in the dishwasher that never washes anything. I took Eve to baseball last night and narrowly managed to restrain myself from bludgeoning the kid that spent every moment on the bench kicking at the gravel until a solid wall of dust enveloped the spectators, and tried to make some stupid fancy catch every goddamned time the ball came at him and then missed and had to chase the fucking ball across the outfield while the other team took two or three bases.

Yesterday there was a letter in the paper from a seventy-year-old woman complaining about an incident at a community centre where a woman was asked to cover up while nursing and then the management apologized and said it was just a single employee who made a mistake in asking the woman to cover up. The seventy-year-old woman was upset that they apologized. She said "nursing may be natural, but so is modesty" and questioned why one person would feel justified in embarrassing dozens of people.

Normally I would just write a snippy reply letter to the paper. Yeah, breastfeeding is natural. Modesty? More like a totally artificial social construction, originally meant to protect our bodies from the elements and later to protect the hysterically prudish tendencies of some. Embarrassing dozens of people? Oh, did I miss the part where the woman whipped off her shirt and danced around thrusting her breasts in people's faces? A woman uncovering one breast and sticking a baby on it shouldn't be embarrassing unless you're repressed beyond belief and/or going out of your way to examine the proceedings in minute detail, in which case I'm pretty sure YOU'RE THE ONE WITH THE FUCKING PROBLEM!!!!! But just the thought of writing a letter and having no effect whatsoever because all the people who don't agree with me are so irretrievably irredeemably incontrovertibly STUPID was exhausting. I wished I knew where the seventy-year-old woman lived so I could festoon her lawn with seventy pink boobs on spikes. I know, not nice. I am just a hot spiky ball of irascibility. I hate mirrors and labels in clothes and heat and I'm not entirely okay with the way the air is touching my skin.

1.Coffee or tea?

I hate coffee. I hate the smell of coffee. Once I was driving my husband's car and it reeked of coffee and I saw that there was spilled coffee sloshing around in the cup holder and I threw up and drove the car off the road and killed four cows and a chicken. Tea is okay.

2. Are you watching Glee?

Yes, and usually I love it but for some reason right now I want to bitch-slap all the characters and jump on their heads.

3. Do you sing?

I used to be an awesome singer. I was in the McMaster University Choir and when we moved here I was in the Carleton University choir with a bunch of skinny snotty little university students and some old people. We did Mozart's Requiem. You know, for dead people. I took singing lessons with my friend who was always just a little bit better at everything than me, but I was a better singer than her so suck it up, beeyotch. Then I started taking asthma medication and had a couple of kids and one or both of those have kind of toasted my voice. I still sing, but I'm not as good, which sometimes makes me murderously angry and I have to jump up and down on a Simon and Garfunkel CD.

4. What's your favourite John Cusack movie?

I love most of them, but Pushing Tin? Good thing there's no death penalty for disastrously bad movie choices, John. How the hell could the guy from Say Anything and the guy from Sling Blade turn out that abomination?

5. Burger or hot dog?

I usually think hot dogs are from the devil, until I'm putting together some elaborate five-course Cordon Bleu-class meal for our friends and making hot dogs for the kids, and then I want to throw the veal with pomegranate sauce under a car and eat hot dogs until I die of eating hot dogs.

Sincere apologies to Shan for abusing her meme like this. I promise to come back and be nice tomorrow, even if I have to perform a DIY frontal lobotomy first.