I have so many random things to tell you all. First, I realize that I teased you all with a post about cooking on Sunday and then failed to follow-up with the finale pictures. I won’t like to you. I started with a glass of wine while I was cooking and then got distracted. It happens to the best of us…
Adore Delano is my life right now. I frequently find myself wondering if I am having an Adore moment. I appreciate this kind of crazy.
I don’t understand all the “Real ‘muricans” contacting me to tell me that I should change my name because some crazy ass people in another part of the world are doing some abhorrent shit. Some, I suspect, are tongue in cheek. Many, I think, are not and it makes me afraid for humanity and they remind me of that crazy Mabus guy who used to stalk PZ Myers. I do not appreciate this kind of crazy.
Lastly, I was reminded this morning about something I once heard Aunt Isis say. Aunt Isis is my mother’s youngest sister and because we are close in age, we have been very close and have spent a lot of time together. I remember Aunt Isis once scolding her children for some fuckery they were involved in and telling them, “You’re lucky you’re my children, If anyone else treated me like you do, I would lay them out.” I remember thinking, “Whoa!!!”
Then this morning I was getting ready for work and decided to let Tiny Diva sleep in because the Isis children were exhausted last night. Tiny Diva is a deceptive little person. She is adorable, with blonde pigtails and the sweetest little smile, but underneath the facade can be salty and ratchet as fuck. If Little Isis is the cool and calm way I envision myself, Tiny Diva is my id. When I finally woke her up, she emerged from her crib saltier than normal and stomped around the house slamming every door and proclaiming “The morning is so rude to me! I hate everything!!”
I thought to myself, “If you were anyone else, little ratchet child,, I would lay you out. Only my maternal love for you is saving you.” But, I also found myself thinking how funny it would be if the tables were turned and I woke up like Tiny Diva, just stomping around and being generally destructive. What would she even do with her little self if her mother lost her mind similarly, flipping tables and dropping mics everywhere…
The morning is rude to me too, Tiny Diva. The morning is rude to me too.