Phew! I can come out now! (rumors of me running over a little person are a teeny bit exaggerated!)

So, I celebrated another birthday last Thursday. Yeah, I know I totally acted out of character by not having a doomsday countdown this year but it kinda slipped my mind which is either a good thing because I don't feel like birthdays are a looming guillotine or a bad thing because I'm just getting too old and my memory has just gone to shit.

Either way, ignorance is bliss I guess. Although, I do always have this weird paranoia that I'm going to die the day before or even the day after my birthday and the news people, because you know that if I die it will be in a spectacular fashion (maybe via an overdose of shoe shopping where I'll just drop once I've discovered a “to die for” pair of shoes at a bargain for like $15 then I’d collapse on an old lady suffocating her instantly which would be a double tragedy because, not only would I be dead, but I wouldn't have had time to buy the shoes that I should have worn at my burial) will say "she died one day before her birthday" or  "she had just celebrated her birthday!"

And if I were to die on my birthday? Well then the news would become global.

"We interrupt your regular programming to bring you the tragic news of a young(ish) woman who died at 11:11 AM on 11/11/10 as she was entering a shoe department and a giant shoe display toppled ontop of her, crushing her. She must have had some sort of muscle spasm because witnesses say it looked like she was smiling."

Because of this paranoia, I tend to have some pretty far-out nightmares.

Bee (to Andy at 6 am on the Wednesday before my birthday while he's getting dressed and I'm kicking the wall because I hate the Asylum and therefore want to break my toes): I had a weird dream last night. I dreamt I was in a car accident.

Andy: Why would you do that?

Bee: I didn't do it on purpose! It's just that a midget pissed me off so I bumped his car with my giant truck!

Andy: ::sigh:: don't say midget! And stop being so aggressive!

Bee: Listen to the whole story before you judge me! Okay, so my sister and I were in my giant truck--

Andy: What giant truck?

Bee: It's a dream! Anyway, --driving on Belmont Avenue and you know what a pain in the ass Belmont Avenue is, both traffic-wise and pothole-achey-butt-wise, so there was this midg-uh LITTLE PERSON in a tiny toy car in front of me and he was only going like 5 mile per hour so I honked and he gave me the tiny midge-uh LITTLE PERSON middle finger and I saw red so I bumped him but it was barely a tap but he was all hysterical and threatened to call the cops and I was like "do it little guy! You go ahead and call the cops! Then I'll tell them I couldn't see your miniature toy car in front of me! And that's dangerous!"

Andy: Bee. Why is it that even your dreams you're causing problems?

Bee: What?? HE started it!

Andy: See you later and please don't "bump" into anybody!

Bee: We'll see . . .

Lucky for everybody involved, I encountered few ignorant drivers.

My actual birthday went without a hitch. I woke up, lived the whole day and then woke up the next day and the day after that and the day after that and the day after that… so I'm thinking I'm pretty much on my way to the next big birthday celebration.

I received money for my birthday from my In-laws and from Master Andy so I was able to hit the 6AM door buster sales on Saturday.

One of the things I bought was this awesome hat.

 

I put it on my head at the store and asked my partner in morning madness, AKA my mommy, how it looked and she said I looked beautiful! Like a movie star from the 50s! So I bought it and came home with my purchase and showed it to my drugged out hubby, he had a tooth pulled so he was riding the codeine high, and he mumbled something which I assumed was "you look fan-fucking-tabulous!" but I hear nothing but nice things about myself, so I was happy with my purchase.

Then. Then my heart broke because I put it on to show my sweet little niece Isabella and I innocently asked. "Do you like my new hat?"

And she paused and pinched her little face and said "It's different . . ."

When I asked what she meant she looked away and shrugged and I knew exactly what she meant.

I need a bigger forehead to pull off this hat!

Who wants to be a milonaire?

So I finally saw Slumdog Millionaire. I know I know. I am so late to the band wagon. Brian and I were probably the last 2 people on Earth to see it, I know he hasn’t seen it because he has an aversion to theater nachos, and now he’s all by himself on that ledge.

Anyway, it was a good movie. A little shocking but the concept was an original one so I liked it. The only thing is, when this movie first came out, they were making a big deal about the dances showcased in the movie. In fact, my niece Natalia performed a Slumdog dance at her school recital and I know it was a Slumdog dance because her teacher said it was a Slumdog dance. So I kept expecting musical dance numbers to entertain me throughout the movie but then it ended without a single dance!

Me: WTF?? Where’s the Bollywood routine??

Andy: Not every Indian movie is going to have a Bollywood routine, Bee.

Me: Um yeah they do! And the media promised me some dancing! I feel so cheated! Oh wait. There it is.

And the dance came on at the very end and I was very disappointed. In my opinion, they were showed up by a class of second graders in a small Chicago suburb but the movie was good so watch the movie for the movie and not the dance.

I also found out the Youtube people loved filming there kids doing spastic routines to the Jai Ho song. This was my favorite:

I don't dine on swine.

The other day (not sure which because I no longer keep track of weekdays), Milton, Glynda and I were talking about dinner meals we've had. I know! Interesting topics we explore here at Asylumland. I was talking about the Coq Au Vin Andy made for dinner (see big boob above) and Glynda was talking about the deli sandwich she had and then Milton was talking about the pork roast her husband made.

Milton: The pork roast was delicious but I had to keep drinking water all evening and I'm even parched today! I think it must be because pigs are saltier than all other animals, right?

You know that screeching record sound effect they do on the radio or TV when somebody says something so outrageous everything comes to a halt? Well, I heard that noise in my brain.

Glynda and I looked at each other and silently told each other to play along.

Me/Glynda: Saltier?

Milton: Well ham is salty and so is bacon and those come from pigs.

Me: Uh, yeah. They are saltier than other animals. I think it's because they lay in mud all the live long day.

Milton: Really? How does that affect the pig?

Me: Have you ever tasted dirt? [Milton shakes her head] Well dirt has these natural seasonings so it's like they're marinating until the day they're pork chops, or in your case, pork roasts.

Milton: Oh, I didn't know that. [taps her pen on her chin, I KNEW something awesome was coming!] Because ham and bacon are saltier, do they raise those pigs in a different type of dirt? Or maybe a different climate?

Me: I think so. I've heard New Mexico has really salty dirt so maybe the ham pigs are from there. I've even heard that people walk right up to the pigs and just take a bite  to determine their saltiness.

Milton [horrified]: That's cruel- [notices Glynda and I covering our faces to hide our giggles] hey! You're pulling my leg!

Me [laughing so hard tears are pooling on my third chin]: I'm sorry! I couldn't resist!

Milton: I should have known! [thinks] So where do you think the saltier pigs are really from?

Me [completely losing control]: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Glynda: Pigs are NOT salty! The ham and bacon are cured that way!

Milton: Are you sure?

Me: Do you want to taste the dirt on my shoe to see if it’s salty enough to raise pigs here?? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

 

And almost as if the pigs overheard our conversation: Pigs loose on Indiana Toll Road after semi overturns

My theory is that they were looking for a BBQ Sauce Mud Puddle. MMMMMMMM!