Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Love/Hate


Do you know what I hate? Those letters that you have to type in for validation to prove you're not spam. I know, I know. I have those letters on my site, but seriously. Sometimes they're so squinchy that you can't tell what they are. I promise I'm not spam! A necessary evil.

Do you know what I love? This:

Tootsie Farklepants at Vintage Thirty gave me this award. I'm just tickled pink. I'm passing this award along to Esme at Blowtorch in the Middle -- she knows why -- and to Lauren over at Full Hands Mom. And finally, to my good friend Lulu over at Lulu's Laundry. Thanks for being my blogging buddies!

Do know what I hate? What Brittany Murphy has done to her lips. Look!

She used to be so cute. She used to have the #1 lips that people requested when they went to have a little something "done." Now? Well, now it looks like she got her lips caught in a drain.

Do you know what I love? I love when viruses only last 24 hours. By the time I got home today Bubba was his usual chipper self. I'm completely convinced though that he had been saving up every thought that entered his head while he was feeling poorly and as soon as he began to recover the words started pouring out. The.child.has.not.stopped.talking.

A funny exchange he and I had: He asked me a question I didn't know the answer to. I said "I couldn't tell you, Bubba"

"Come on," he cajoled. "You can tell me."

Do you know what I hate? Being stared at by creepy old men. On Sunday in Savannah, we made our daily pilgrimage to the shrine of the Starbuck where we enjoyed our caffeinated beverages and a tasty pastry. I kind of felt an old man staring at me but then I started reading the paper and forgot all about him.

Do you know what I love? A husband who gets rid of creepy old staring men. "You're being stared at." Mr. Daddy announced loudly. Huh? "I'm trying to embarrass him to make him stop staring at my wife" he said, this time even louder. I didn't look to see if the old man was still staring. But yay for Mr. Daddy!

Do you know what I hate? Packing to move. Or to be more precise, sorting to pack to move. Ugh.

But do you know what I love? Finding a poem in a box in the attic that my sixth grade boyfriend wrote to me. It is a breaking up poem, to be precise. And now I'm going to share it with you. (Please note that I am copying this EXACTLY as it was written).

I am so sorry I am
drying up by the sun.
But now I can not
have so much fun.
I love you and only you cause
that's very true,
I wish we could get married
but that wouldn't work out
because we have a lot of doubts.
I don't want to see you again
because we can't be a friend.
Tell everyone I said I love you all
and I said Hey, but always
remember that I am not Gay.
I may grow up and be
the American President or I might
teach baby's how to eat a mint.
But for now I am just an ordinary fellow, Bye and tell every-
one hello.

I love you,
I truley do.

Ah, young love.

16 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wow

That is a stellar poem. How did you manage to get over him?
"I wish we could get married...I don't want to see you again."
That is beautiful

Anonymous said...

Did GW Bush write that poem? Because I think he still writes like that ;-)

Anonymous said...

Thank you for my blog buddy award!! I am honored, and I'm totally going to have my lips done like Brittany Murphy to celebrate.

I hope that your boyfriend ended up teaching babies how to eat mints. He sounds very special.

Anonymous said...

P.S. Her eyes look insanely large. Must have been a 2-for-1 deal.

Karen said...

What a sweet hubbs! And that is the cutest 6th grade boy poem I've seen. How funny that you still have it!

And I hate those squished letters, too. You might want to consider ditching yours. ;)

Tootsie Farklepants said...

I think you cursed me with the word verification thingy. Know what mine is right now to leave this comment?

lxqnrbnb. I think. We'll see if it works. It's a lot of letters very scrunched together.

Brittany Murphy made an unfortunate choice. Seriously.

Mr. Daddy is a knight in shining armor!

Lauren said...

Hooray mr. daddy!!! That is awesome.

And thanks for the award! I feel so speee-shul!

Anonymous said...

a breakup poem. Interesting. I've heard of love poems but never a break up poem.

And even when I think I have those damn letter right I end up having the reenter them.

Burgh Baby said...

You know, some of us don't have those letters on our blogs because we find the letters more annoying than the occassional spam. Just sayin'.

Maybe Brit was dating the guy that wrote that poem and when she read it, she smashed her face against the wall. She does look rough.

Laurel said...

Just remember that I am no Gay?...issues? That is so funny! 6th grade love. It doesn't get better than that.

And Brittany Murphy??? What the??? My son saw her picture on her blog and said, "That lady looks weird." 'Nuff said.

Moving is a total pain! Hope you find a couple more poems to keep you motivated.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx said...

I love that poem. Who is he? I need poet to interview for my blog!h

Esme said...

That poem... I can't stop laughing...

Thank you for sharing the award! I'm psyched to be your buddy! :)

Amanda said...

I love the poem! Ahh, teaching babies to eat mint - what could be better?

I'd comment on Britney's lips but my eyes began to burn and I had to look away very quickly.

My daughter talks non-stop. All.day.long.
I have to ask her, "No more questions! No more, please!" It's amazing the detail that comes out of her mouth. And if she's not talking, she's singing, and if she's not singing, she's making funny little noises. It's NON STOP! Argh!!

Susan said...

Oh. My. Goodness. That poem cracked me up, almost as much as Brittany Murphy's lips. Oh. My...

Wineplz said...

Yeah, I tried reading that poem aloud and besides the weird look I got from my husband, um, it didn't sound any better! :D

Glad to hear Bubba's better, even if the disease has progressed to diarhea of the mouth (er, that doesn't sound like he got better, huh?).

1blueshi1 said...

Dear! God! At least you don't have to worry that you were dumped by someone destined to be a future Poet Laureate. I have a letter...a letter that ends with the never-say-die sentence, "I now realize that you are more than just a broken doll I used to play with."
What morons those guys were. Are. And ever shall be. Morons without end, amen.