This past week was kind of ridiculous. Let’s break it down.
Me and My Maladies
I turned 33, which was also the day of Halloween. I had gone shopping for candy for trick-or-treaters the day before, which turned out to be a day of hormonal wackiness for me. Looking back, it now makes sense that I bolted out of bed at 7:30 in the morning and decided that I needed to procure candy as soon as possible. I imagine the staff at CVS saw the look in my eyes as I stomped over to the Snickers. They knew to stay out of my way. I worry sometimes that I am becoming a Roseanne episode.
I woke up with an extremely stiff back on Wednesday, which required me to ravage my office’s supply of ibuprofen. Also, somewhere around this time, I could not for the life of me remember if I had taken the pill that I take every morning or not. You know what that means?
On Friday night, I uttered those famous last words, “I have to go into CVS. It should only take a few minutes,” because I never learn. Yes, it should only take a few minutes, but in reality you are going to die there. After standing in line behind someone who was attempting to do something shady with a gift card, avoiding the oral projectiles of the grunting guy behind me, and getting into a surprisingly in-depth conversation about Kim Kardashian’s “marriage” with a woman I’m pretty sure was drunk, I mosied up to the counter to pick up my rosacea and acne medication. If you were wondering, “Kdiddy, how do you bring all the boys to the yard?” well, now you know. But, of course, the acne medication had been rejected by my insurance company because it required my doctor’s authorization. “Isn’t the…prescription…the…authorization?” I naively asked. No. See, because of my age (read: way too old to have acne), my doctor needed to call the insurance company and reassure them that I am not, in fact, purchasing creams and salves to sell on the street. An unintended side effect of this transaction was that I’m now seriously tempted to see if the acne cream can get me high. I mean, what are they hiding? What aren’t they telling us? I was puzzled by this, because there I was, all 33 years of me, and there was my acne. What could I be trying to get away with?
Eventually, I left, sans acne medication. I forgot to buy a pill sorter, too. Say…where are my pants?
My Kid Is Pretty Rad
Halloween itself was fine. I don’t have any pictures of the baby actually trick-or-treating because I suck, plus it was raining. I do have a picture of him about to win the prize for Most Original Costume at the Halloween parade in our neighborhood.
He was Paul McCartney, which everyone loved, though there was still some confusion over who he was supposed to be. A surprising number of people asked if he was Elvis, which was weird. There was no pompadour involved in his costume.
Those weren’t the only accolades he earned last week. Saturday, his soccer team had their playoffs. They lost, but maintained their first place record in their division.
His coach wasn’t actually about to shove a cupcake in his face. That’s just how I take pictures okay?
Later that evening, he had a piano recital in which he played “Ode to Joy.”
It was part recital/part informational lecture about Beethoven, which was mostly watching clips from Immortal Beloved. I love that movie, artistic license be damned, so this was fine with me. And I remembered that I have a pretty strong reaction to the Ninth, which makes me wonder if I’ve been subjected to some A Clockwork Orange treatment at some point in life.
Big Night Aht
The husband and I had tickets to see Louis CK last week. I co-opted the event to be part of my birthday celebrations. We went to Morton’s the Steakhouse beforehand, which was omfgdelicious and omfgexpensive. My grandfather had given me some gift cards that someone he worked with gave him. I had initially scoffed at needing $250 at a restaurant, but, um, we still went over that. But whatever. The meal was so good that I started calling the husband, “Girl,” as in, “Giirrllll this is so good.”
Louis CK was amazing and afterward we met up with Gayle for a drink. I was especially excited about that last bit because a) Gayle, b) DRANK, and c) we went to Meat & Potatoes, which I’d been wanting to try forever. I was actually back there on Sunday for brunch with Kim, Jessica, and Laurie. It was delicious. We had Bloody Marys with bacon vodka and Laurie was kind enough to InstaGram my Irish Benedict before I stuffed it in my face.
Miscellaneous Moments of Grace
I met up with Mary for lunch yesterday. We were enjoying a beautiful day by the lunch trucks when leaves abruptly fell from the trees all at once. It was odd. Like, “And now…AUTUMN!” We chuckled at this until one leaf flew into the side of my eye with such force that it knocked me off balance and I almost fell off the picnic bench. Well played, Nature. (PS, you’re a dick.)
Leaf assaults aside, we found ourselves sharing our favorite moments from the new Beavis and Butthead. I discovered that is impossible to talk about Beavis and Butthead without giggling exactly like them.