Paying with Pennies

Today my homies and I went to the movies. I love going to the movies. Like Tom in The Glass Menagerie, I would go alone and often, if I could. But I'm dripping with babies right now, and so we go together, in a gaggle, and not quite as often as I would like.

We always buy popcorn. Always. Eating popcorn is the best part of the whole experience. Because if the movie stinks, the popcorn is always there to save the day, hot, buttery and so delish.

We layer our popcorn with mass amounts of butter flavoring, in the middle and on top. The butter flavoring, not to be confused with real butter, is probably worse for you than smoking cigs. I know this because I used to work at a movie theater. As we squirted butter on the popcorn, the flavoring would splatter all over the floor. Then we'd walk through it, and it would coat the bottoms of our shoes. Little by little potholes began growing in the soles of our Dr. Martins, and we'd complain about it to the candy counter crew manger. "It's the butter flavoring. It's like acid," he'd tell us.

But here I sit, writing you, not even caring that the butter flavoring from today's popcorn is now eating away at my stomach lining. I'm just grateful that I had enough cash to buy the popcorn in the first place. Somehow in all my unpacking from California, I misplaced my debit car. So when I went to pay for the popcorn, my heart sank at the realization that my card was still sitting somewhere at home. Luckily I had three dollars in cash, and that money placed me half-way to purchasing the large, refillable popcorn.

"Maybe we have enough change in the car to make up the difference," my homie said to me, as I began heading toward pandemonium.

"You're brilliant!" I told him as we ran out the theater doors.

I spilled out the change and noticed that all I had was a few nickles sprinkled amongst a bazillion pennies. But a movie isn't a movie without popcorn, so we counted out three hundred pennies and trucked them back into the theater, cupped in our hot, sweaty little hands.

We placed our mountain of pennies on the counter, and I said to the cashier, "This is so embarrassing, but I left my debit card at home, but we need a large popcorn, so here's three dollars in cash, and here's three hundred copper portraits of Abe Lincoln."

The cashier laughed and then asked me to sort my Vesuvius of pennies into groups of ten.

"I promise it's exact change." I said, hoping he'd just scoop up the mountain and call it even. But no, he insisted that I sort them all out. I kept messing up the groups of ten because I was so nervous. "I stink at math." I told the cashier. This bit of info. made no difference to the man.

But I did it. I counted all the change, grabbed my popcorn from the counter, and did a victory strut all the way back to theater 14. I gotz no shame about it, either.

California Girls

OK, so I admit this is my wannabe attempt at being glamorous, but from this picture you can gather where we're headed: California. I will take lots of pictures and report back to you in a week.

This morning I did a boogie dance-jig for my homies, because I'm that excited. There's nothing like revisiting my homeland, where the girls are "unforgettable" (not to diss the girls living in good ol' AZ). That's what Katy Perry sings in her new hit single "California Girls," anyway. Not that I listen to her trampola music or anything. But I do have one question: Does she or does she not sing the catchiest tunes in the west? And don't they get stuck in your head for days, whether you want them there or not?

Living in the Moment

We've got D-backs spirit!

I pestered the guy next to me all night. I asked him who his favorite player was, if my homies were buggin' him, if he wanted to be best friends and whatnot. Do you see him trying to ignore my ridiculously self-indulgent behavior? I thinks he's peeking at me out of the corner of his eye. Crazy is hard to ignore.
There isn't an uglier picture on the planet. Just look at my neck meat--so disgust. Can you even stand looking at it? Right after Mi Amor snapped the picture, I knew it would go down in Suzuki family picture history. We've looked at the picture a hundred times since, and every time we look at it, we roar and scream about how crazy I look. It never gets old, so I just had to show it to you.

If you can't read my lips, I'm cheering along with the famous baseball game chant, "Da da da dunt da da, charge!" Of course I'm hamming things up a bit, but can I just tell you this is the best night I've had since my high school graduation?

I'm not one for letting go of it all. I'd rather worry about the bills, laundry, church callings, and the serial killer living next door. My want to worry 24/7 makes falling in love with a particular moment or experience very difficult. But on this night, I did it. I lived in the moment. I enjoyed every minute of the baseball game. We danced so much, we even made it onto the big-screen TV. The whole stadium got to see our moves.

We even stayed for the fireworks.

P.S. I think I'm balding.

School's Out for Summer

Mi Madre would not approve (remember how she loves whole grains and healthy), but it's time to celebrate! School's out for summer, and I'm loving every minute of it (except for the five hundred fights my homies had yesterday). But we've gotten into a rhythm of sorts, and that's why I kicked off our three month long party with this bucket of cheese balls. I also loaded my Costco cart with other junk, like Carr's Lemon Ginger Cremes and ice cream sandwiches. Have you tried the cookies, though? I've already eaten through a sleeve and a half, and it hasn't even been 24 hours since I purchased them. Sick. And. Wrong.

P.S. My 5 year-old can fit his head through the container's opening. Impressive.

Kai Razor

Once a week my homgurl and I cuddle on the couch and watch a new episode of TLC's hit TV show, "Toddlers and Tiaras." Have you heard of it? Does the TV show disgust you, huh? Do you become shelled-shocked as you watch the moms transform their sweet little girls into miniature tramps, all in hopes of winning a small wad of cash and becoming Miss Grand Supreme of Who Knows What?

A good mom encourages her daughter to watch wholesome classics like Anne of Green Gables and The Sound of Music. But, no, my homegurl is stuck with a mom who has a macabre sense of humor, and so, instead, we watch shows where parachuters fall from the sky with faulty chutes and moms turn their sweet angels into Britney Spear look-a-likes.

If you want to see an outrageous clip from the show, click here. My kids can do a perfect impression of Makenzie (the girl in the clip), and it's just so sick and wrong and hilarious, all at the same time. They go around the house saying, in a perfect southern accent, "You are driving me nuts!" We all laugh and say how crazy she is and how crazy we are for wasting our time on a show that exploits children.

The show has one redeeming characteristic, though: beauty tips. One mom used a Kai razor to contour her daughter's eyebrows. It was very humane of her mom, since waxing the eyebrows of a five year-old could be considered a form of physical abuse. Within six strokes of her magic wand, the mom had perfectly shaped the girl's eyebrows. I was jeal to my core, because waxing makes me bleed, so I immediately popped up from the couch and ordered some magic wands from Amazon.com. I just knew it was the answer to eliminating the baby caterpillar that's living on my upper lip.

It's been two days since I clipped the critter, and my lip looks great. I don't have a five o'clock shadow. And you know what else? Shaving doesn't make your hair come in thicker; that's an old wives' tale. So if you want a painless way to get rid of any unwanted hair, Kai razors are for you, me, Miss V., and the sick moms on "Toddlers and Tiaras."

P.S. I lost my spray tan in the lazy river.