coconut cake

It may be generic and mainstream but so am I. That's why I love Pottery Barn through and through. I have always dreamed of a matching set of glasses. I love these recycled green glass tumblers. And I've often fantasized of something beautiful for my jewelry... don't you love this lotus stand? It's on sale for only $80. HA! Do people really consider that a sale? Well, keep fantasizing Alana. Maybe if it was $8 I could buy it. And a matching set of glasses? That's for rich folk.















If we want to (do we?) talk social structure of Europe, let's note how families move in together to survive. Yes, my very own Mama is moving in with me on Saturday. She takes my Dad's social security and can make it but not quite. And me- well that's another story. Can you say Brandon isn't getting a paycheck this week and even when he does it usually bounces? Can you say a car that is broken AGAIN!? Can you say medical bills to the blue sky? (if I'm screening your call it's because I think you might be IHC's collection agency- I'll pick up as soon as our tax refund arrives.) My Mom already helps so much. She buys all of Anika's diapers. It's no wonder my Mom can't quite make it. I doubt she's excited to move in. Would you want to live with me and B, silently enduring dysfunction, day after day? It's not the greatest gig in the world. I know she just really wants to help us by renting a room. Plus, I HATE it when my Mom lives alone. I'll be glad to have her here. She is so hilarious and full of life. She is FUN.

Somehow I don't really care about any of it. Yes, I had nightmares last night about Brandon job hunting. But I also dreamed about a Pepperidge Farm frozen coconut cake and how I would slice it into 9 delicious squares. They register equally on the think-O-meter as far as I'm concerned. Everything always works out. There's certainly a roof over my head and food in my belly. Dare I ask, what's the worst that can happen?

Okay, never mind. Because what truly scares me is the direction our country is headed. Real nightmares are made of irreversible change. They are made of "everything a human right". They are made of cradle-to-grave class distinction. They are made of big government eating my children and stealing my thunder.

I just don't get it. Because even though we are struggling I don't expect anyone to help me. I expect to help myself. I'm American. Isn't that what we do? I want to scream at Washington- I don't feel entitled to the world so don't give it to me! It makes me a true, pure, sad. I love my America. I don't want to see our independence and drive go out the window.

I thought I was just going to post a cute glass tumbler set?
What have I done?