What reason would someone have to check out a Mommy Blog, belonging to the South African Bloggers’ Network if they were: not a mother; not a friend of any other mother on the network; not South African; especially, not a South African blogger; and someone with whom I used to be friends.
The answer: Stalker.
In other news:
- Isobel’s still notsomuch eating.
- She took a gigantic crap on one of my favourite DVDs today, avoiding the Dora DVD right beside it – and if that’s not a statement, I don’t know what a statement is.
- I’ve got an overdue movie I should have watched last night still sitting, waiting on me.
- I’m thinking of taking a distance program for technical writing cuz it would pull in a lot of freelance work. I’m already considering applying for some business plan gigs. Since it was, like, what I did before Isobel.
- I’ve boiled two of my stove drip pans twice in baking soda, hoping to make them look brand new. AKA like they looked in the 60s.
Today, some of the nouveau skater boys were trying to land kick flips in the parking lot of a school I was passing with Isobel after grocery shopping. One decided he was going to ollie the stairs but was freaked about cars and pedestrians and wanted me to go ahead. I was like, ‘nah, give ‘er.” And he took a run at it. And a run off of the board, which sa-hailed through the air towards the street.
I give it back to him and suggest they go down by the beach to work on their ollie-ing pre-suicide-stair-runs and he just smirks, ‘yeah, thanks for the tip.” And I’m like, “no, dudes. You seriously gotta land that shit from a stand-still before you go off half a storey.” Words are exchanged and I know my stroller and american eagle jeans are severerly hampering my street cred. And I’m like, “fine do what you want and break your tail bone when you land on your ass. But for the love of god, just hug the tail more, kay?”
A blink. A stare. A hey, she might be not just chatting us up to be an annoying grown-up. And I was questioned how I knew such things. The following line may have come out of my mouth…
“Boys, I was skating before you were even a zygote.” Seeing that in writing, in hindsight really only makes me seem old, eh?
So there was a challenge put forth and fine, at least I used to know how to bail with some grace, so I got the chance to ride this kids loose-bearinged, soft wheeled board. And I flew for a second and then it was almost game over, until I slid for a sec and manualled.
Board is returned and I saunter away, cuz really, that was the coolest thing to do, right?
And inside my head, it was all “Zoeyjane, you are still the shit. Rawr. Now, let’s go put away some overpriced organic food and say nigh night to Isobel. Old McDonald had a farm…”
