Wardrobe malfunction

Photo via Somewhere in Time on the Internet (Sorry)

This is what I’m supposed to wear to a party tonight.
I do not have this in my closet. Do you?
In the late ’80s I had a green jacket like the one the model is wearing. I’m thinking at some point in the ’80s or early 1990s I had some baggy pants that could have been modified to pull off this look. I even had the boots.
Yes, in the ’80 and ’90s.
I have a very limited wardrobe that consists of stuff I wear to the gym, stuff I wear around the house and the very, very narrow choices for going out or meeting clients. None of it fits the criteria of the Victorian era. Nary a puffy shirt in sight.
I do not have knickerbockers, circa 1895, in my closet. Nor does any resale or vintage shop in my area. And the theater folks I asked? They told me to go sew my own …
Do you have this ensemble in your wardrobe? How about a time machine? A historical museum nearby with loose windows, easy-to-pick locks?
If so, could you FedEx any or all of them to MomZombie now?
Maybe I should just make my own time machine and deliver myself elsewhere in history so I don’t have to show up costume-less to this event.
I have about two hours to get in character. Otherwise? I’m showing up in street clothes. I’m hoping the extra bottle of wine I’m bringing will help smooth over this little oversight.

Granola brain


from www.thefoodsection.com

Like a bag of granola, this week has been a mix of stuff:

The nuts: Always there must be the philosophical challenges with those connected by blood. How about this one?

If I believe chocolate is the way to inner peace and you believe peanut butter will save the universe, unless we can come together in a Reese’s candy cup, forever we will be wrapped in separate packages. Is it possible to be on the same shelf? Why do you buy me peanut butter when you know I don’t eat it?*  Why do you make it your mission to change others? Over here in chocolate-land, we see a lot of unhappy peanut butter eaters waging a battle against chocolate lovers. Why would we join the ranks of those so obviously unsatisfied by their own choices? 

The sweet fruits:  Tucked between days swaddled in gray and showered with rain came a few breathlessly beautiful bursts of heat and blue.We discovered an urban oasis cut with hidden trails, opening to duck ponds, and hills for climbing up and running down. 

I realize the best things are free. It is a joy to have true friends. My wish to live a simpler life may be manifesting itself in ways I had not anticipated, but I will become a better person for having lived through them.

Those pesky sunflower seeds that always get stuck in your teeth: Our own personal challenges of staying afloat in a Titanic economy are as unpredictable as ocean swells. Sometimes the horizon is in sight, sometimes the sharks circle. 

Chewy raisins that are good for you but don’t taste the best: Engaging in activities that nourish my mind and body aren’t always easy or pleasant.  If it weren’t for them, however, I’d be smoking crack outside tent city near the casino district talking to my pet rock.

Mystery item that looks soft, but when you bite it, threatens to dislodge a crown: Realizing that the things that tick me off the most are my biggest lessons. I don’t have to defend my position. I don’t have to take the bait. But why, oh why, am I always the one to clean out the litter box? Huh?

* I’m speaking euphemistically, of course. Actually I love peanut butter as much as chocolate.

A raging case of poly-blog-a-matosis


It’s difficult to live two lives simultaneously. Just ask Clark Kent or Bruce Wayne.

Just ask the secret polygamist.

Do women do this? Most women I know think their husbands, children and households are more than enough. Why they’d take on multiples would be beyond my comprehension.

Except in the realm of the superhero. In this world, a woman will have a nondescript day job and then slip behind a curtain, do some magical thing to transform herself, and then reemerge with big hair, a body suit, cape and some kind of otherworldly power. The personas of super hero and library assistant would be so vastly different that no one will ever make the connection.

So is the life of MomZombie.

I started this blog almost two years ago as a personal outlet. I kept my blog private for a year, then turned it public, but kept details private and shared none of it with family or friends. But that isn’t very rewarding. 

Last month I gave in to the immense pressure and cajoling from friends and family and got on Facebook, set up a page on Linkedin, started Twittering (still not getting that yet), created a Flikr account  and created a second blog that serves as a resume and job seeking site. (Yeah, uh, this is supposed to be about work.) 

What in holy hell have I done?

Now I’m wondering: Will I have to set up two separate Facebook, Flikr, and Twitter accounts to accompany  each blog, as others have done? 

This seems ridiculously complicated, a recipe for disaster, one in which Clark Kent shows up to the Daily Planet with his cape sticking out of his trousers.

How can one person manage this much stuff? How will I connect with all my bloggy friends? I’m struggling with a big dilemma here.

Husband suggests dumping MomZombie and starting over again with a new blog. But, I’m attached to this thing, even if it will never lead to fame and fortune and stats in the double digits. Even if I never get to wear a real superhero cape.

***Since writing this I have considered setting up a Twitter for this blog. I know some of you have asked in the past if I Tweet. If you’d like to connect that way, send me an e-mail on how to find you on Twitter, at momzombie64@yahoo.com Be patient with me. I’m having a heck of a time with the thing.