What I shouted to myself while walking down the street and listening to an audiobook on my iPod:

"Height! Height! 'Heighth' is not a word, Dan Rather! It's height!"


I don't understand why I get so many funny looks.

I'm really not this insensitive.

Instant messaging is a weird way to communicate because, unlike talking on the phone or in person, you don't know if the other person is saying something until it's right there in black-and-white. Sometimes both people will type at the same time causing an overlap in the conversation. This can lead to some awkward exchanges.

Take this one from a recent chat with my sister:

Sandy: [Our close friend] died yesterday in a horrible accident.

Me: I saw a goat today.

Sandy: He fell asleep at the wheel.

Me: Just running down the street.

Conversations with Mom, #38

Mom: Hello?

Me: Can we get Teddy (our very old and corpulent family dog) stuffed when he dies?

Mom: What!?

Me: You know, by a taxidermist?

Mom: Uh, if you want him you can do it.

Me: Okay.

Mom: Was that the only reason you called?

Me: Yup.

I can see into your soul with my glowing eyes.

I don't like vinyl-coated paper clips.

Things I Do Not Get

The whole peanut butter & chocolate thing.

This flavor combo is completely nauseating to me. Why is it in all the food these days? Of all the flavor combination this one seems to be the pushiest. It's all over everything!

It's like the chocolate people said to the peanut better people, "We are both delicious on our own. Perhaps we should join forces and become nigh unstoppable! We'll get in the cookies! And then we'll get in the ice-cream! And we'll get in some cupcakes! And we'll get all up in the candy aisle! AND THEN WE'RE GOING TO WASHINGTON, D.C. TO TAKE BACK THE WHITE HOUSE!"




Calm down, choco/peanut man.

And get your flavor out of my face.

Nutrition by Kim

It was pretty late when I got home the other night so my quick-fix dinner idea was a little something called Bowl of Chocolate Animal Crackers.

And I washed it all down with a glass of organic, fat-free, vitamin-enriched milk. That is what is called Making Healthy Choices.

Today's Word of the Day feels slightly more poignant than usual.

Sherrie-Baby

Turns out, I am NOT married.

Keith-hunk and I grabbed some dinner last night and when Señor whipped out his credit card to pay, the cashier asked to see some ID. Well of course he doesn't carry ID because that's only what regular people do and Keith, after all, is a rockstar. It's like asking Tom Selleck for his ID.

So the cashier turns to me in order that I might vouch for Sir Keith and asks the question of the century: "Well, are you two married?" (Awesome sauce, man.)

At this point Keith is becoming annoyed (he's always so testy when people on the street don't recognize him) and responded, a little more adamantly than I thought the situation merited, "No. Not at all."

I, of course, burst out laughing because the cashier had a molester-stache and wanted to talk motorcycles with Keith who doesn't even have one by the way and then the married question and the vehement denial and what kind of adult doesn't carry ID with them oh yeah you're a celebrity and it was just a little too much for poor Kim to handle.

The cashier then stepped back a little like, "You're on your own with that one, bro," which I think made the whole thing funnier, but don't you?



I can tell I'm going to have fun with this every time dear Keith asks a question from now on.

"Kim, do you want to rent The Great Escape?"

"No, Keith. Not at all."   

Not my husband. Not. At. All.

---

But Keith, it really isn't in the cards for us anyway given that we're both white and I have my heart set on having a little halfsie-black baby someday. Sorry.