Vacation, So Far

Ooh, look at that! The wifi is functional!

I am writing this, beer in hand, on a so-comfortable-it-should-be-illegal couch, in a lake house in the middle of the Pocono mountains. I'm full of barbecue and fresh-picked corn. J is to my left, eating sour gummy...amoebae, or something (seriously, these things look horrifying), my kids are napping upstairs, and my parents are chatting on the deck. In short, it's downright blissful. Since J spent most of last night ensconced in a Very Important Fantasy Football Draft, I figured that I, too, could take a few minutes now and reacquaint myself with the internet.

1. I, uh, wasn't kidding about reacquainting myself. Our connection here is intermittent, and I'm woefully out of touch. That being said, am I to understand that Macaulay Culkin really fathered Blanket Jackson? I...what? WHAT? Really? Can that possibly be true? Because I just heard two women discussing it at the County Fair, and I wanted to ask them about it, but I didn't want to be That Girl, you know? The one who pops up in the middle of your private conversation, with a grin that, to her, appears totally friendly and normal, because she is trying to show you that she's totally sane, but to the people she's interrupting, appears half-crazed and menacing? And really, I know of which I speak, because there are some right lunatics that frequent my grocery store, and if ever I run into a friend there, and talk about ANYthing, say, birch beer, I can guarangoddamnTEE you one of them will pop up, all "you think you know about birch beer? I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT BIRCH BEER, YOUNG LADY."

2. Our movie selection up here is limited, and someone to whom I am married suggested that we watch Twilight earlier this week. And really, I can't think of a better movie to watch in a remote cabin in the woods, surrounded by the forest, and deer which may or may not be shapeshifters. WHAT THE HELL, J. And speaking of which, Jonna had mentioned a few weeks ago that while also in her family's lake house, had nightmares about True Blood's Maryann climbing the cabin walls, and, you know, ripping out her heart. To which I say, THANKS, JONNA, because while you know I love you, I'm now I'm similarly afflicted with this fear. Other pop culture- induced lake house fears include Cabin Fever plague, sundry Twighlight Zone-ish things, Friday the 13th, and finally, that movie I can't remember right now, but Liv Tyler screams and those freaky homicidal maniacs wear masks and talk calmly to them. Oh, and the creepy mask-wearing girl swings slowly and creepily on a swingset.

3. I now kind of hate my entire family (well, all of them who are currently here with me) because they made me pose with an INDUBITABLY MURDEROUS LADY CLOWN at the county fair we attended earlier today. (She was making balloon animals for the kids, sure, but I was on to her little game.) I was holding Lo at the time, so they were all, "oh, the baby will LOVE the clown! let's get a picture!" COULROPHOBIA IS NO LAUGHING MATTER, ASSHOLES. When Maryann and/or the creepy mask people come in the night, don't expect me to protect you. (Picture of me and lady clown to follow. I'm sure I look enthused in it.)

4. J and I took a trip to WalMart yesterday. "Quel romantico!" you're probably thinking. But the thing is, we don't have one nearby at home, and we kind of look forward to our yearly pilgrimage there, because, really, the things I learn. For example:

~People (hunters, I'm hoping, and not fetishists?) apparently require various forms of deer excrement for...well, for what, I don't know, but it's packaged and sold in a store, is what I'm saying.

~ HAHAAAA. I'm sorry. I'm 12. But this is the best-named product ever. EVER.



~Randy Jackson has an eyewear line. All the jokes I'm coming up with are annoyingly predictable ("You did your thing; you took those frames and made 'em your own," etc.), but something about this is so delightfully random.

~Also, I'm sorry AGAIN, but the people of WalMart site? IS FUNNY BECAUSE IT'S TRUE.

~Perhaps it's that I'm in Pennsylvania (i.e., official Gosselin territory) but I noticed an alarming amount of Kate Gosselin hairstyles on women in (and out) of WalMart. ON YOUNG GIRLS, EVEN.

5. I am terribly sad that karaoke night--which used to be the highlight of our time up here...for me, anyway--is no more. However, its absence does leave me with more time in the evenings to booby-trap our windowsill against the aforementioned malevolent forces, so I suppose its for the best.

6. T just woke up, so I'm off to play our newly-invented game of WonderPets, which involves hiding a baby penguin doll, and then eating celery (licorice) when we "find" it.

Life is good.