The One Where I Tell You a Secret

I have the weirdest dreams. When I was a kid, I used to dream that I could fly. I still remember that *whee* feeling in the pit of my stomach this one time when I dreamed I was flying on my magic carpet. Okay, so it wasn’t a magic carpet. It was a suitcase. I told you my dreams were weird.

The other night, I dreamed I was a zookeeper. Like, instead of volunteering in the reptile department once a week, they actually paid me to show up. And I had animals of my own that I was assigned to take care of. I didn’t get to fly, but I did get to touch cool things. It was the happiest dream I think I’ve ever had. Then I dreamed that I bought a box of salted caramel MoonPies. When I woke up, I had the biggest smile on my face. Don’t you love dreams like that?

Here’s where things get really weird. I opened my secret hiding place in the closet cabinet, and look what I found!


Oh, my gosh! Salted Caramel MoonPies are a THING!

Oh, my gosh! Salted Caramel MoonPies are a THING!


But wait. If the MoonPies were real… Does that mean…? Yes, it does! As of this week, I have a new full-time job! I am the newest keeper in the Herpetology department. This is my dream job. I have thoughts and plans for studies on reptile cognition, and I want to do some operant conditioning with our giant tortoises. I am so excited I could cry. And I may have once or twice already.

Can you imagine having a job where you get to continue learning and learning and learning about things you love? Because that’s what this job will be for me. I’ll eventually be in charge of some species of snakes that I have limited or no experience with, so I will be reading and scouring the internet for information to learn as much as I can. About biology and the natural world. What could be better?

My first day is Saturday, and I’ll let you know all about it. My new life is about to begin. First full-time job since Squish was born. It’s exciting and scary all at the same time. Wish me luck!



In case you didn’t know, I contribute writing in other places. This week, I entered my drug screen post in a competition over at Yeah, Write. If you enjoyed it, click here to go vote for me. You can vote for your five favorite blog posts that you see there.

 I also added a post over at our local City Moms Blog. It’s a silly little poem about how parenthood changes us.  Because it does. Want a free sample, no extra charge? Okay, then!

Motherhood is pretty great.

I know that statement’s true,

But I’d be lying if I said

Kids haven’t changed my view.


At restaurants fine, I used to dine

On lobster or capon.

Today, I only choose the place

That offers free crayons…

Click here to read the whole post, and feel free to leave a comment to let me know you were there. I like it when my friends visit me.


My Eyes Are Opened.

It’s all fun and games until you realize it’s all a sham.

It started out great, everything all new and exciting. It’s easy to have your head turned when someone is so attentive. It was like they went out of their way to really get to know me, what I like, what I love, what I hate. No cue was too subtle. If in a conversation I casually mentioned my dog,  they’d surprise me with all kinds of stuff they knew about dogs. When they knew I was an adventurous eater and loved saagwala, they were eager to and show me some other amazing restaurants I had never even heard of. They introduced me to people. It was really kind of sweet. No one had ever tried harder to please me, to know me, to expand my horizons. No one.

After nearly five years together, I swear we were like an old married couple. Some days it seemed like they could just read my mind. I came to count on them, to assume that they were as invested as I was. After so much time, it was painful to discover that it was all a lie. I only thought they knew me. Turns out, they don’t know me at all.

Gmail, I’m talking to you. Quit sending MoonPie Mike’s blog to spam. If after all this time you think that’s not something I want to read, you will never really know me.

Sometimes Good Things Come in Small Packages

But some of them come in big ones. Great big ones.

Amy at Lucy’s Football is celebrating 2 whole years in the blogging world. You may remember her when she was Freshly Pressed with this magnificent post.

Amy is awesome. She shares my disdain for mean practical jokery, and she loves theatre so much that I need to go and see her so we can take in a Broadway play together.

Anyway, she had a sneaky giveaway, and guess who won? Um, yeah. Me. Yippee! Hop on over and pay a visit and catch my guest post. And what was in the giveaway? I can’t tell you. You’ll have to visit the photo montage to find out.

Come and visit by clicking here, and be sure to congratulate her on two whole years of blogging!

If the Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions…

I came home the other day and found a package on my doorstep. And it had my name on it. I hadn’t ordered anything, so it was completely unexpected. I checked the return address, and it was from one of my favorite people in the world. When it comes to surprise packages, I’m like a four year old. I ran inside (I did hold the door for my actual four year old, so I’m not totally thoughtless) and ripped into it. Turns out that the people I love know me and love me anyway.

It was a get-well package. I’m feeling better already.

And she said I don’t have to share. Which is good because I wasn’t going to. And now there’s no guilt.

I feel the love!

I feel the love!

The road to hell  may be paved with good intentions, but it turns out that the road to recovery is paved with MoonPies.

I Can Be Petty

You knew that, right? I’m not lollipops and rainbows all the time. Sometimes I can be petty.

Two wrongs don’t make a right and all that, but sometimes when someone hurts me, my heart shrinks three sizes and I think to myself “Self, two can play at that game.” And sometimes I do. Even if the games we two are playing at aren’t fun. Even if the games are more like missile strikes than Nerf darts. And so it is.

Last week I was betrayed. In a big way. It hurt. I could have taken the high road, but I didn’t. Perhaps my moral compass was using Apple’s I06.  I played dirty, and I don’t feel good about it. Well, maybe a little good. But still betrayed and angry and powerless and frustrated. All without an Oxford comma, or any comma at all. Because, my grammar and punctuation-loving friends, misery loves company. I know that was a low blow, and I will be sorry next week. Really. I will be. I’ll even use extra commas to make up for it. But for the moment, I am comma-less.

You know how it is when you’re in love? And everything is all wonderful and sweet, and you want things to stay just as they are forever? And then you find out that the object of your affection doesn’t feel the same way? Yeah, they’re all about the change. But they don’t come out and tell you directly. They go behind your back, all sneaky-like, and you find out after it’s too late. They’ve started something new, and there’s no going back. That’s what I’m sitting with today.

Last week, I discovered that MoonPies have gone to single deckers. Single. Deckers.  I know. That means instead of there being two layers of marshmallow sandwiched between graham crackers the way God intended, there is only one. What is the point, friends? What is the point?  What if the dudes who built the pyramids had said “Meh, let’s stop with the ground floor and make it a rancher?”  Would anybody have cared about those pharaohs? Probably not. Because those pyramids would have been looted the day after said-dead pharaoh was planted, and Kind Tut would have been just another dried out dead guy.

It’s the same with MoonPies. Without that extra layer of marshmallowy goodness (shut up, spell check. For today, marshmallowy is a word. Can’t you see that I am hurting here?), the freshness is stolen away in a matter of days, dried out like a pharaoh in the Egyptian desert. So instead of buying a box that I can hide for a month or more, I am forced to eat one a day. And I’m getting a little sick of them.

So, MoonPies, you think you can do this to me? You think I can pick up a box and not notice that the pies are exactly 1/3 fewer calories? You thought I wouldn’t care that I’m paying the same money for less product? We’ve met, right? Two can play at this game. I bought a box of Hostess cupcakes. And I like them.

Just remember, MoonPies, you started it.

Allow Me To Explain

Sometimes you need a GPS to get where you are going. For you old fashioned folks, a map comes in handy. But to get to my blog, you just need the secret code. Or codes. Or just use these handy search terms. And then scroll through 40 pages of results.

Life will throw you curveballs meaning urban dictionary – You know it’s a bad day when life is throwing dictionaries at you.

Becoming what you eat – It could happen.

Me as a MoonPie. Notice I’m kind of happy about it. Usually my hands are not misshapen claws. Usually I’m not a MoonPie, either.  Interestingly, MoonPie remains my top search term.


Galapagos + cliche -There are so many Galapagos cliches that I hardly know where to start.

Kill me cat birthday – Happy birthday, friend. You need a better party theme. May I suggest Hello Kitty? She’s at least a happy cat.

Should I pierce my ear boy – No. Ear boys hate being pierced. Or yelled at.

Chick in sweaters – You were probably looking for this:

No animals were killed in the making of this sweater. I don’t think.

But I’ll give you this:

Typically, chicks have two legs. Typically, they don’t wear sweaters, either.


Work boots on wrong feet – To the two people who found me this way,  I don’t know what interests me more: the fact that you’re old enough to own work boots and yet they are on the wrong feet, or that you then needed to research it on the internet.

Hi tech bucket – You won’t find what you are looking for here. I have enough time managing regular buckets. I am not allowed to have high tech ones. I might hurt myself.

How to sneak urine into a drug test – You are the people who are ruining things for the rest of us.

He loves to be undies –  Who doesn’t? Apparently it’s a thing because I got three hits from this term. Be what you want to be when you grow up. Even if it’s undies.

How to curl your hair with a wand –  For starters, that’s a total waste of magic. Curl your hair with a curling iron. Save the wand for turning people into frogs.

Boa constrictors high school – I’m a big proponent of education, but I’m pretty sure that economics theory and gym class would be lost on a snake. If you can get funding, more power to you.

Ask me and I’ll kill you – Ask you what? Oh, poop…


I did something rash and daring. I entered a blogging competition! That’s right! I’m hoping to be the next Blogger Idol! Auditions have closed, but it’s not too late to vote for me to be the wild card. Because I am wild. I sometimes eat a MoonPie for breakfast! To vote, just visit their Facebook page and mention that you want Becoming Cliche as the wild card. If you’re a tweeter, you can do the same thing here. Help is appreciated but not required. I’ll let you know on Friday if I’m a finalist.