my big gay weekend

This weekend my family and I headed down to the Seattle Center to meet up with a friend and her family. Our plan was to go to the International Fountain and let the kids splash around in the water. I had told her that usually on a Saturday that it’s pretty busy, but she should be able to find me. However, I did not know that this was also the weekend of the Seattle Pride Festival, meaning that a place that would have been scattered with strollers was crammed with the biggest gay party explosion. I’m a gawker by nature, a looky loo, a OMG SHE IS WEARING ELECTRICAL TAPE FOR A BRA, so I had a lot to gape at, which was much better than my normal, “That woman paid 900 bucks for a diaper bag!”

pride

We did capture the requisite Boy and Drag Queen shot. (I have the big copyright over it to keep asshats from lifting it and submitting it to the battery of mean, unfunny whytheeff and stfu sites.)

I didn’t take nearly as many pictures as I would have liked because Nathan can no longer be corralled in a stroller. He wants to run, sprint, frolic, and do whatever it takes to cause gray hairs to sprout on my head (none yet, thankfully, but once they come I’LL KNOW WHO CAUSED THEM). It was hard to do anything other than keep a hawkeye watch over Nathan because the kid is fast and I did not want to have to swipe the microphone from the drag queen singing Journey so I could announce to the scantily-clad dancing crowd, “We’re looking for a little boy dressed in a striped shirt and shorts. He may be picking his nose. Knuckle-deep! He answers to the name of ‘Nathan.’ He also answers to the question, ‘WHO WANTS CHICKEN NUGGETS?!’”

How was your weekend?

June 30, 2009 | Filed Under Uncategorized | 7 Comments 

swollen

This weekend my gum was feeling sore, an ache that continued until Tuesday morning when I woke up and my face looked like this:

fat face

fat face

Yesterday I had an emergency dentist appointment where I was told that I needed a root canal and crown. I don’t understand why I can’t get dentures now. I mean, if I had dentures, I could have straight teeth, or better yet, a blinged-out grill. Plus, I’m already into older men so this would give me a conversation starter with the grandpas while I cruise the ICU. They don’t call it The Greatest Generation for nothing!

I was also prescribed some powerful antibiotics and pain meds to deal with the swelling. I don’t think I’ll finish the Vicodin before my next appointment because I cannot handle anything stronger than Tylenol. I tried taking a pill yesterday, half one hour and another half a while later and waves of nausea washed over which is always what happens. I frequently overestimate how hardcore I am like the time I took a percocet while I was at the Iowa Writer’s Workshop and spent an afternoon feeling Trainspotting queasy. This is sad because Intervention is the only reality show I have any chance of being cast. I thought about Rock of Love Bus, but I would definitely be the girl Brett eliminates right away with, “I don’t think you can handle this rock and roll lifestyle. Or fit into non-maternity pants.”

When my husband, the man I married and who sired my firstborn, saw my face, he shared a series of observations on his wife’s swollen and painful situation:

“It looks like the right side of your face is storing nuts for winter.”

“It looks like the right side of your face is pregnant.”

“You look like a Picasso painting.”

“You got sucker punched with a left hook.”

“Your right side is retaining water.”

“It looks like the right side of your face is amassing troops for a D-Day invasion of the left side of your face.”

HA! I am going to file these gems under “I MARRIED YOU…WHY?!” It doesn’t bother me though because this is the same man who thinks that this bathing suit at Costco is sexy:

no no no no

no no no no

There are so many things wrong with this. LIKE THE PRINT. I don’t think leopard print is suitable for anyone not already living in a gated community or hosting Cabana Chat. This is why I don’t trust my wonderful husband with clothing choices. One time he came back from a conference in Austin, TX convinced that I would look hot with a bandana tied around my neck and a t-shirt tied at the corner. I had to remind him that I DON’T WORK AT COYOTE UGLY.

I am happy that I’m married to him though because I would hate to be dating right now and explain that I didn’t just go through face transplant surgery and sorry I threw up so much at dinner, I’m as sensitive to drugs as a newborn, but don’t worry, my boobs are as perky as an 80-year-old’s! Get in line fellas!

June 25, 2009 | Filed Under Uncategorized | 15 Comments 

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