crap i've been meaning to tell you about // movita beaucoup

Last week, a few of my students asked about my high school experience in the 80’s. What did we wear? What were record stores like? Were there richie kids? Did I make my own prom dress? Eventually I had to tell them that I didn’t grow up on the set of Pretty in Pink.

In a recent email exchange, I told my sister that my phone likes to suggest a number of (usually unhelpful) responses to her messages. For example, when she told me she almost coughed to death on a bus, my phone suggested:

crap // movita beaucoup

When Haddy asked how many of my emails have been automatically generated, I guessed about 87%. (I don’t have time to respond to every near-death experience that woman has.)

Lately, 2.0 has been trying out a new nickname for me: Lil’ Stuff. Maybe I should start killing off some of the characters on this blog…

I’m still working on the sets for my next teeny-tiny ballet. Occasionally, I think: why the hell am I doing this? And then I remember that I don’t have anything fulfilling happening in my life right now.

crap i've been meaning to tell you about // movita beaucoup

Sometimes I tell Effie she’s very pretty, and then I feel bad because I should probably be telling her she’s intelligent and can do anything boys can do. Do cats care about feminism?

My left eyebrow is constantly raised because my eyelid droops due to a birth defect. Except I don’t think we’re supposed to say birth defect anymore. I believe my eye is now considered aesthetically challenged. Anyhoo, my brow is perma-lifted to hold my eye open. So most of the time people think I’m being like this:

crap // movita beaucoup

When I’m actually being like this:

crap // movita beaucoup

A couple of nights ago, I returned home from work to find footprints going up to our front door in the fresh snow, but none leaving. Given that the snow had only started few minutes before I arrived, I knew the tracks were fresh. 2.0 was away for work, so when speaking to him on the phone I mentioned the possibility of a crazed killer in the house. I told him how much I love him, and then gave him some details to pass on to the police should it become necessary. He responded with, “Okay, honey. Did you check every closet?” What is it like, I wonder? Never worrying about assassination. Some of us shall never know such things.



  1. WillCookForFriends on March 9, 2016 at 11:22 am

    Hahaha, the auto responses are hilarious! I once had an entire conversation with someone where I never had to type a word, I just kept selecting individual words my phone was suggesting. It put together surprisingly cohesive sentences!

    Also, how can you leave us hanging like this?! What happened?! Who’s footprints were they? Obviously you’re still alive, so no murderers… but still, inquiring minds want to know.

    • movita beaucoup on March 9, 2016 at 11:48 am

      Well, Willow, I’m alive. There could still be a murderer in the house, for all I know. I was going to submit the footprints to the CSI footprint database, but I forgot to take a picture.

  2. roscoe on March 9, 2016 at 2:30 pm

    It could have been someone walking up to your door and carefully walking backwards into their own tracks to make you think they had never left…….but check under the beds just in case.

    • movita beaucoup on March 9, 2016 at 3:03 pm

      Cripes. I hadn’t thought of that. Aaaaaand now I can’t use my bed.

  3. thatskinnychickcanbake on March 9, 2016 at 10:16 pm

    Whew, I’m glad no crazed killers made their way into your house. Your fans would be disappointed if you weren’t around to share the latest teeny-tiny ballet and other giggle inducing tidbits.

  4. Stephbo on March 10, 2016 at 12:49 am

    ” Do cats care about feminism?”

    Do cats care about anything?

    • movita beaucoup on March 12, 2016 at 8:50 am

      Breakfast at 5 am. They care about that.

      • Stephbo on March 12, 2016 at 3:58 pm


  5. Lyndsay // Coco Cake Land on March 10, 2016 at 1:50 pm

    hehe! um, this happens to me at our back deck often – wet footprints. but then i remember it was me. Pretty in Pink WAS MY DREAM LIFE when i was a kid. i had it dubbed on VHS (illegally!) and watched it over and over and over. I was in love with Blaine. I thought Andie was the cooooolest. Funnily enough, years later when I was playing music in bands, my sister told me my band sounded like “the band in the CATZ bar scene in Pretty in Pink” … influenced 4 life. You’re such a good writer Rachael. XO

    • movita beaucoup on March 12, 2016 at 8:48 am

      Oh, the footprints were BIG, Lyndsay. They weren’t mine. And they definitely looked murderous! If only I had Blaine here to protect me…

  6. Karen on March 10, 2016 at 7:09 pm

    Don’t ever stop this blog…it’s to damn funny! Can’t wait for the next letter. 2.0..your perfect together

    • movita beaucoup on March 12, 2016 at 8:49 am

      Just as I was thinking about running away, I get comments like these. I guess I’ll have to keep blogging for another month or two!

  7. Karen on March 10, 2016 at 7:11 pm

    It should have been you’re lol

  8. Stacy on March 12, 2016 at 9:15 am

    Please never stop writing. Your email in my inbox is a bright spot in my day, even if it does take me a couple of days to follow the link and read your post. When the week is going to hell, that’s like a treat I can look forward to. Make 2.0 check under the bed. He’ll feel useful. You won’t be killed in your sleep. Win-win.

  9. Pink Peep on March 15, 2016 at 1:23 am

    Thank you for keeping us informed of your crap! It truly makes my day even if I am not Dirty Harry. But alas, I must know, many moons ago you spoke of a small roommate and tantalized us with pictures of miniature things. Did you ever reveal the wee roommate? Or is this one of those mysteries of life that we must accept and move on? Sincerely, a devoted fan…the Pink Peep.

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