just another manic martha

now that the holiday season is in full swing, i feel the urges. i have lust in my heart -- for all things martha.

it's these nesting urges that cause me to forget the simple things, like -- i really can't cook. it's these damn urges that force me to try anyway. sure, i can bake a pie! hell, i can even make an appetizer, too.

before i know it, i am knee-deep in recipe denial. and shortly thereafter, i am faced with the crushing reality of defeat as my appetizer flops and i discover the omission of an integral step in the recipe. (and no, i will not share what i fcuked up this time. my amnesia-based cooking frenzy will surely mount its ugly head again someday and next time -- next time i will be prepared! booyah, baby.)

during this time i also feel the need to clean, too. any other time of the year i am referred to as the clean nazi, but at this time of year when confronted with what i affectionately call the muddy season, those urges gain even more strength. october and november are some of the hardest months of the year -- until the ground freezes, each trip to the yard invites the princess (chloe) and piglet (sadie) to take a mudbath.

this might be a stock tip, people: invest in the makers of swiffer wetjet products right before the muddy season begins -- i know loads of other mother of furkids out there who live by their wetjets, too.

so another day means another trip out of the closet for my vacuum cleaner which gets more action than a prostitute these days. goddess only knows, the prostitute probably sucks more and costs less than my bagless vac does.

ahh, and while on the subject of crackwhores, with the return of the holiday season comes the onslaught of a new enemy -- the army of inflatables infiltrating front lawns everywhere. i wanna decorate for the holidays with the best of them but save me from the snow globes, would ya?