Life can be very cruel.

I'm on the Nordstrom website. Even as we speak, another tab on my laptop has an entire department store open and ready for businesss. (And if you're reading this in my archives? It's still true.)

But oh Nordie's. Take thy beak from out my heart. These


are sold out in my size.

And this


is no longer available in red.

Newsflash!

Guess


where


the


Buxoms


will


be


spending


the week


before


Thanksgiving?

Today I am

... reading A Cotswold Killing by Rebecca Tope. It's a murder mystery I picked up in England. In the Cotswolds, actually. Yes, I am actually that much of a dink.

By the way, you know how American TV is always ripping off British shows? I think I'm going to write A Costco Killing. Yes, I just thought of that comic gem. And it's only the first category. Stick around.

Oh, and Mike, by P. G. Wodehouse, which I downloaded for free from Amazon for my iPod's Kindle app. If you have any interest whatsoever in public domain literature, (i.e., old shit that uses big words,) you should check out free e-readers like Kindle and Stanza and that one from Barnes and Noble. Trust me. You'll never be bored again.

... listening to Desolation Island by Patrick O'Brian from Audible.com. I've already read the book a couple of times and listened to Patrick Tull read it, but I have a massive audiobook hard-on for Simon Vane and felt a strong need to hear all 21 of the Aubrey/Maturin novels as read by him. Yes, I am actually that much of a dink, part deux.

... watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer via Netflix DVDs. My husband and I are catching up with awesome, cult-worthy shows that were on TV when we were busy wrangling toddlers into their footie pajamas.

It turns out that we love Buffy. We're totally addicted and begrudge every moment we can't fire up the flat screen, light the candles, pour the drinks, curl up on our giant brown velvet sofa, and head to Sunnydale, CA. We're finishing up Season 3.

And now I hear Spike will be coming back. I can't wait.

... eating leftover party food from last Saturday's Halloween party. Yes, still. I've got a bunch of containers of pulled pork and chili in the freezer. I also have innumerable bags of Goldfish and pretzels and such. Honestly, I could go another three or four days without cooking a thing, but tonight I gave everyone a break and made spaghetti with meat sauce. Tomorrow it's back to leftovers.

... drinking red wine. Shiraz. So yummy and yet, not particularly fattening.

... making a heroic effort not to let my children drive me crazy. So far I'm triumphing over insanity. No thanks to them.

... waiting for this incredible spell of damp, rainy, overcast weather to finally end. In case you haven't heard, Chicago is the new Seattle, except with fewer hipsters drinking less coffee.

... wondering whether my kids are ever going to develop any study habits.

... hoping they will because, hello, the Buffy Season 3 two-part "Graduation" episodes are supposed to be awesome.

... thinking that somebody needs to invent a laundry-folding machine.

Some days are just out to get you.

I had to go to physical therapy this morning. And write two blog posts--one for Mamarazzi and one for BlogHer. And go grocery shopping. And take my daughter 's lunch to school.

So I thought, hey, why not pick her up some tuna rolls in the sushi department at the grocery store? So I did. Even though it's a bit Molly Ringwald in The Breakfast Club to have sushi for lunch.



I packed the tuna rolls up in a clear plastic lunch tote with a vanilla cream pastry from the Croatian bakery and a bag of purple seedless grapes. I dropped them off about 45 minutes before the lunch bell rang. I felt--for once--like a good mom.

Well, a friend of mine who works at the school just called me to tell me that my daughter never picked up her lunch. My friend had my daughter paged, and when she came into the office, my daughter told my friend that it was too late. So my friend put the lunch into the refrigerator. And I'm pretty sure my daughter scrounged the equivalent of a Pixi Stik and Cap'n Crunch sandwich from her friends.

Now, if this were an O. Henry short story, there would be some kind of interesting twist ... but this is a P. Buxom blog post, so I leave you with the following:

Guess who's having leftover tuna rolls for dinner?

1. My daughter
2. Me

If you picked 2, you are wrong, wrong, wrong. Because I'm having a cocktail. Maybe three.

How some of us celebrate Halloween

Some of us celebrate Halloween by cleaning house and putting up decorations. All wholesome and old-fashioned-like.

But Poppette sees Halloween as an opportunity to add to her YouTube channel. After all, people are dressing up in outrageous costumes. Why miss a golden opportunity to make something silly cinematic history?

FYI, her co-star is a Frankenstein/witch/cheerleader/dog. Poppette is a Fallen Angel.

I did her makeup. And I'm bucking for an Oscar.

(If you go to YouTube and leave her a comment or a thumbs-up, I'll be your best friend 4EVA.)

Friday Bullets

Yeah, OK. I'm stealing the idea of Friday bullets from Badger. So sue me.

• It's been raining. And raining. To the point where I've been tweeting about the weather, for God's sake.

• My in-laws are coming for the weekend. Should I clean the house?

• My frozen shoulder (a/k/a adhesive capsulitis) is acting up. Can I blame my dirty house on it?


• We're all going to see Fabrice Camels dance the part of Othello in the Joffrey Ballet's new production. Would it be in bad taste for me to drool all over myself?

• A bunch of us are having dinner first. Would it be far-fetched of me to blame the drool on the meal? Even hours afterwards?

• I posted to Mamarazzi today. Don't worry. It's not about Balloon Boy.

• Later, taters. I'm off to physical therapy. Wheee!

In which I steal from Wendy

Badger and Blackbird are doing this thing where they ask their readers for questions, and it's a great idea that I'd love to copy. It would give my creativity a big goose, and foster that dialogue that is so important to the blogging community. (Buzz words in italics).

Unfortunately, the way my hits are heading, if I asked my readers for questions, it would be met with an embarrassing silence. To save myself from total humiliation, I'd have to invent about five or six Blogger sock puppets and use them to ask myself questions. And who has the time for that?

So I'm stealing an idea for a post from my pal Wendy. She has a semi-regular Thrifty Thursday post, where she plays show and tell with her latest thrift shop scores. In doing so, Wendy inspires her readers with bone-deep, bitter envy. Naturally, I thought, "What fun!" Because now I might be able to inspire some envy myself.

Recently I invited Wendy to join me at one of Newtopia's legendary rummage sales, and she went home with so much loot, she posted about it not once, but six different times.

Here's Wendy, just getting started in the sewing/crafts room. The blurriness is partly the fault of my iPhone, and partly the result of her lightning-fast reflexes. What camera shutter could keep up?


My church runs this sale every year. People come to it from miles around. The sale uses the entire parish building, a nearby storage facility, and a nearby women's club. In addition, tents pop up all over the place. Volunteers hand out floor plans of the buildings. And after paying expenses, the net proceeds of the sale are awarded to local charities. This year we raised $235,000.

My friends, that is a lot of buttons.

I've explained to my children the greatness of the Christ Church rummage sale, so let me outline it here:

1. Rummage accepts donations all year long. So it's a great place to get rid of old junk.
2. Rummage prices their items very competitively. So it's a great place to acquire new junk.
3. Several area churches bus their parishioners in for the sale, which gives people who couldn't drive to the area the chance to buy some of our fabulous cheap junk.
4. The money raised doesn't go to the church; it goes to charities that really need the revenue.
5. It's green.

The local public schools are doing their best to turn my kids into tree-hugging socialists, so they're big rummage fans. And this is great, not only because it's teaching them to think about other people, but because it's much easier to take their junk away from them. I'm now welcome to declutter their rooms to my heart's content, as long as poor people and/or baby polar bears are the beneficiaries.

Anyway, back to the sale. Wendy spotted this beauty and said "That would be perfect for the master bedroom at the condo." And she was right:


It's a little armchair upholstered in a Brunschwig et Fils Chinoiserie print. With leopard! Sort of.


It's in showroom condition. Came with arm covers, a little pillow, and some extra fabric.

It cost $75, which is high for this sale. But isn't it fabulous?

Wendy and I have already marked our calendars for next year's sale.

If only I had discovered these before our Halloween party ...

Anyone who admires the Martha Stewart liquor labels being offered this year by Grandinroad (originally $1 each, now on sale, 12 for $6)


should be delighted with these fabulous lookalikes available for free on Flickr, courtesy of Love Manor.




I mean, I may not be particularly crafty ... but even I can print out labels and glue them to the liquor bottles.

Next year for sure!

Now appearing on Mamarazzi: Breaking news stories we have loved

And guess what?

They don't include that whole Balloon Boy mess.

Check out what I had to say. (Don't worry. I didn't embed any vomit-y videos.)

Things that I hate for no apparent reason.

I've probably blogged more than I should about stuff I hate. Things like men's cologne, acrylic nails, and reality TV shows.

But here are things I boycott, even though a lot of very smart people swear by them:

1. best-selling novels
2. scented candles
3. L. L. Bean Boat 'n' Tote bags
4. wallpaper
5. mid-century modern furniture
6. dark chocolate
7. scotch
8. peep-toe shoes
9. Quentin Tarentino
10. Ikea

Halloween. Again.

My crappy looking mantel with my awesome Halloween bouquets

So--sort of at the last minute--I decided to have our semi-annual Halloween party. I call it "semi-annual," which is a phrase somewhat open to interpretation. In this instance it means "when I feel like it," or "when my house isn't under construction." Last year our driveway was under construction. The year before, the kitchen was ripped apart.

(You know, with all these renovations, you'd think my house would be a fabulous showpiece, right? But you would be wrong. See above.)

But people can get very enthusiastic about the littlest things. Like my "when my house isn't under construction" Halloween Party. I started to feel a certain amount of pressure to have it again. (Although it beats me why I should care about what a bunch of 7-to-12 year olds say.)

The thing is, I haven't thrown this party in three years. And my kids have grown up in the past three years.

I'm still into an old-skool Louisa May Alcott-era celebration. OK, I draw the line at bobbing for apples, but I like to keep things wholesome. I prefer witches, pumpkins, and black cats as decorations. No rotting zombies, Frankensteins, vampires, or giant spiders. No fog machines and no decorations that make scary noises. And no creepy party food. No Jello-O brains. No Vienna Franks disguised as severed fingers. Not even that thing where you make parmesan chicken wings and call them bat wings.

Just some costumes, a buffet loaded with chili and pulled pork. Lots of desserts. Flowers, balloons, and goodie bags for the wee tots.

Oh, and lots of drinking. Of course.

But while I wasn't looking, my kids have grown up. My daughter wants me to turn the front yard into a grave yard. She wants hideous spiders all over the house. Plus they've both gone all Goth anime on me. They want to look like this




and this.


Let me tell you, the fussing over costumes is going to kill me. And it's going to use up all the money I was planning to spend on candy corn.

And booze, my friends. And booze.

Sometimes I think I'll never have time to blog again.

So for now, some topics, to flesh out when (if?) I have time. WITH DOOCE CAPS FOR HUMOROUS EFFECT.

1. Back to school continues to kick my ass. Big time. Maybe I'd feel better if I developed a peptic ulcer or a hysterical pregnancy or some other psychosomatic ailment so it wouldn't just be my brain freaking out all by itself. Wouldn't hives be a pleasant distraction from reality?

2. My mother has joined FaceBook. And friended me. Not just me, as in Real Name me, but also as Poppy Buxom. What if she finds my blog and reads it and discovers that I KNOW HOW TO SWEAR?

3. I'm blogging about celebrities on Mondays and Fridays at Mamarazzi. Also, today I blogged about the tragedy of Maybelline's discontinuation of my beloved Drippin' Honey lipstick over at BlogHer. Please to read and comment.

4. I've realized that the daily crap (cooking, cleaning up the kitchen, laundry, grocery shopping, decluttering, bill paying, topping off the underwear drawers) is more than enough to fill my days and I really shop STOP with the volunteer work. I should tell Girl Scouts, my church choir, the Joffrey Ballet, the Colonial Dames, and the English-Speaking Union to suck it.

5. I just agreed to continue being the recording secretary for one of these groups.

6. We went to a black-tie dinner dance on Friday night. My mother got a vicarious thrill out of it, but I'd rather have been watching a DVD.

7. I went to England. In August. And have hundreds of pictures to post/talk about. Still.

8. My phone won't stop ringing. I just don't answer it any more or I'd never get anything done. Honestly, how do you other housewives talk on the phone all day? You do, don't you? I mean, that's not just a stereotype, right?

9. I went rummage sale-ing with Wendy last Thursday. It was awesome! Wait 'til you see the gorgeous chair I bought for the deluxe apartment in the sky. IT IS FABULOUS.

10. I hear somebody leaving a really long message on my answering machine. I'd better go and check it out. Maybe it will be an INTERESTING BLOG TOPIC.