Not thinking shit through.
I get these ideas, opinions, and cuss words in my head that don't make any kind of logical sense but they make my brain feel like it's on a bender with Santa Claus and marshmallow fluff.
I always shop at Super Target because almost everyone there smells good and doesn't make eye contact. I prefer people with hygiene and snobbery over the friendly non-judgmental faces of Wal-Mart.
Kendal suggested I do my shopping at Buy for Less since it's in the ghetto and it would make us feel good about ourselves. One of my favorite Adrian quotes, "I don't know why they call that place Buy for Less...My Nana spent 300 dollars there." (He wits the shit out of himself for only being 7!)
Walking around Buy for Less is like making out with your wallet while doing the macarena. Their stuff is so ethnic and weird that it immediately made me feel awesome about my culture knowledge and decide to be a chef for the week.
"Kendal, hand me some of those cactus leaves"
"What are you gonna do with them?"
"I don't know, boil them with those little onions that look like knobby penises"
"They're spiky, so why don't you pass on that"
I didn't buy the cactus leaves but that's no hyperbole! They had cactus leaves right beside all their Mehicana spices and roots.
That's when I saw the chamomile. It's actually called manzanilla for those of you who only speak one lame language.
I knew manzanilla was chamomile because I read it on the back of Ellis's baby bathsoap and thought it would be a good name for my band. That I still plan on having someday so don't steal that name.
"Hey, did you hear Manzanilla is selling out the Ford Center? We should totes get tickets because she's hot"
"I'm in, Bro, she's so calming and relaxing and makes me want to fall into a stressless sleep"
Husband loves to use Ellis's babybath whenever he is having a sore neck day, because it so calming and relaxing just like my band.
I decided to buy him some and murder my quest to be a decent wife.
"Here's some homemade soup, some sex, AND a motherfucking chamomile bath!"
When I get home and show him the cluster of peace that cost 99 cents, he looked at me like I had a Disney character growing out of my face.
"What do you do with it?"
"I make you a bath and then you love me a compliment me"
"Wait, the whole weed? You just throw it in the bathtub?"
"It's not a WEED, Mat. It's gonna make you feel like you're 20 again. And it smells like a field of sleeping babies"
He kind of glances at with a look of "meh" and goes to finish his "awesome year of recruitment" on the nintendo. (I call everything a nintendo)
I decide I will use it myself and ramp up my wifeness with some super soft skin, a calm disposition, and a freshy scent.
It's a bundle.. costs $0.99....wrapped in plastic.
I pictured drawing myself a hot bath and raking my long (short) blond (ish) hair into a bun (nub) and sliding my tennis player-esque figure into the steaming water and opening the contents of the cheap plastic bag into the mix. It would float around in its bulk, making a big bathtub of Mary-tea. Once the chammy (that's what I call it since we're close) had seeped to its full potential I would ring out one last bit of its medicinal naturalness and then put it in the plastic bag I had laid beside the tub.
It ended up more looking like I had had a one night stand with a hayride. It definitely didn't stay in its bunch and I tried to fake it like it felt good....but the truth is that I smelled nothing and my skin was itchy and I had pretty much destroyed any possession that the chamomile had touched.
Husband came in, unfortunately, and got a look on his face like he wished he'd married his ex, who loves Jesus and doesn't put weeds in the bathtub jets.
I assured him I would clean it up, hoping he would offer to do the job instead...since he's slightly OCD and starts googling divorce lawyers when I forget to use a dirty-spoon-holder-thing.
No such luck. He said I smelled good and I assured him my skin was soft as a slinky and told him he would be able to enjoy that whenever I finished cleaning and came to bed in upwards of 4 hours.
Then we bickered about my not using enough paper towels...and then we quarrelled about me not letting all the dead flowers and weeds go into the drain....then we had a tussle about my not cleaning up my cleaning supplies very well.
Worst. Bath. Ever.
I managed to fall asleep after my bath but woke up an hour later because my throat was closing up and I was dying. I got up and coughed it out like a champ...I tried to scratch the itch in my throat by chewing exorbitant amounts of gum and Nilla wafers. I ended up after a few hours of being really unhealthy and lame, taking a total of 3 benadryl.
It makes sense. I have horrible horrible allergies and soaked in a concoction of hay and flowers for an hour. Today I feel like I'm swallowing fingernails and I still had to sling those loans like it was paying the bills.
|Loofa.... 2009-December 2011|
You're supposed to drink chamomille.