Sunday, September 30, 2007

My Stove

It's taken me thirty-plus years to understand my body. Like when you've got a temperamental camping stove that needs just the right TLC to get the thing started. One burner might appear to be broken, but in actually just needs a set of pliers to turn the gas, and the match has to be held just right, and, so on and so forth...

Wait - I'm not done. My cook stove isn't one of those trendy little two-burner hotties you find in chi-chi outdoor stores. It's a four-burner, sausage chili, eggs, bacon, coffee pot affair. And it suits me. Do you know me? You must know how I like to play things that are hard and physical. I prefer to be bruised and scraped. Mornings in which I awake pain-free and fresh are a disappointment. Clean and unblemished campstoves are for debutantes and wannabes. My stove looks like it survived the Oregon Trail, and can still cook up a mean-ass elk steak with a side of something brown. When I go camping with the other ladies (i.e. changing into my Speedo at the water slides), the women I respect probably check out the goods and nod knowingly, if not aprreciatively. The little two-burners turn up their noses and smirk, but then hide their unused and ineffective stoves behind designer towels. No dings? No burnt remnants of ten-year-old trout omelettes? Yeah, I'd hide that shit too. Pshht - probably can't even boil water. (Yesterday in the grocery store Madeleine was sitting under the shopping cart and announced to the entire produce section, "Mommy why are you always beat up?", which is only slightly better than the time I was trying on some shoes at Bob Wards, and in response to my removal of my rank running shoes she called out, "Mommy your 'gina stinks.")

But I have to say, each month there comes a time that throws everything out of whack. The burners don't start, the latch sticks and the cover doesn't close properly, the card table tips over spilling singed oatmeal all over everything. You know. I should recognize the warnings, but it's always a sneak attack. This month, however, I think I got it. It's probably a good indicator of what's to come, when Brett Favre's routine touchdown pass makes me cry. Well yeah, it's the record and all, but, it's a football game. Although, it was his 421st, after they'd just shown the highlights of the Monday Night game after his dad died, and then Marino spoke, and then. Now I'm tearing up again. Okay, the first time may have been legit, but these tears? Clearly time to head to the drugstore. SOS pads.

13 Comments:

Blogger Orange said...

That's the problem with the Mirena IUD. It makes my periods dwindle to occasional and light, not monthly and heavy. But I swear I still get hormonal sometimes. I just can't predict it by the calendar, and some months I'm weepy but nothing happens in the days after. So what I do is blame any undue crankiness or weepiness on hormones, regardless of whether there's any identifiable basis in fact.

It's my prerogative. I'm a woman.

9/30/2007 11:59 AM  
Blogger Nance said...

Sigh. I'm 48 and so very tired of it all already. My mother was 72 and still having regular periods, and hers started when she was 9!! Nightmare. She finally had a hysterectomy. My sign when it's Jammer Time? When I crave Lay's potato chips and Fig Newtons at the same time. But I know it's getting close when I start carbo-loading like a week or two before.

9/30/2007 1:53 PM  
Blogger spellconjurer said...

I know how you feel. Exactly. Cause, well I jumped up and down and screamed screams of joy at my tv. Cause well, for better or WORSE, they're my Lions.

9/30/2007 6:31 PM  
Blogger Orange said...

Maybe I'm hormonal now. Because we just saw that Disney movie with The Rock as the football player surprised to discover he's got an 8-year-old daughter, and I spent about a half hour of it moved to tears. (It was a sweet movie. And maybe a little emotionally manipulative and formulaic, but what's wrong with that? It was sweet. And touching.)

9/30/2007 8:36 PM  
Blogger Tink said...

"Mommy your 'gina stinks." LMAO!

That reminds me of the time I told my Mom she wasn't pretty anymore, as she was crying over a bad hair cut. Or the time I pointed out her panties were showing through her pants at the grocery store and wouldn't let up on the topic. The stuff that comes out of kids' mouths are both horrifying and amazing.

9/30/2007 9:06 PM  
Blogger meno said...

And just when you get it all figured out, things change.

Yeah.

10/01/2007 8:52 AM  
Blogger Bob said...

just wait when the air regulator goes to hell your burners randomly burn hot then cold.

10/01/2007 1:59 PM  
Anonymous TB said...

Give yourself a break. It's been a tough month.

Also? Our camp stove sounds eerily like yours. In fact it's sitting on the back porch to be scrubbed right now in anticipation of our upcoming festival trip with Myles. But I always like to leave a little of the grime to burn off on the next use because I like the smell. Is that weird?

10/02/2007 9:38 AM  
Anonymous wordgirl said...

I usually feel like killing someone...oh wait...never mind...I only feel like that when I'm newly pregnant. It's when Aunt Flo comes that things can get really unstable. Um...were we really talking about camp stoves...or the other? Or both? Jebus, I've got to get out more.

10/02/2007 8:26 PM  
Blogger Arabella said...

Your stove sounds awesome. I can't stand functional shit that's sparkly-clean; what's the point? And you know I'm not at all about the physical stuff, but I would totally go camping just to try elk steak. As long as I could bring a pillow. And Skin-So-Soft. And Purell.

Just got a humdinger of a flow. And my head hurts a lot. Damn weaning.

10/03/2007 10:14 AM  
Anonymous Ortizzle said...

Ortizzle would talk about this but she can't no more. Ortizzle got a break from that in recent years. Ortizzle fizzled. And considering the freakish side effects of no hormones, I think I would prefer to go back to weeping copiously about the highlights of the Monday Night Game.

10/04/2007 4:16 PM  
Blogger lildb said...

you have the patina of a life being lived all over your body. it's a beautiful thing, man.

you, you are a beautiful human. woman. person. etc.

(although I can't say that the 'gina having a patina is my necessary preference. I can *hang* with it, but, you know, um, yeah.)

10/05/2007 3:14 PM  
Anonymous V-Grrrl said...

When E-Grrrl was four, she told me, "Mom, I definitely need to take a bath. My girly smells like TUNA!"

10/12/2007 12:42 AM  

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