ok. i've psyched myself up. i'm ready to write.
in bed, in pajamas, in the semi-dark.
windows are open so i can listen to the rain, and my computer is nestled on top of two pillows.
if not perfect, then it's a near-perfect writing environment.
so i went to Texas for 6 weeks while my hubster was off wasting his time, against his will, in some stupid course for work.
in these short 6 weeks, my house got trashed by my cat/housesitter, Mike's car got towed, and i lost my awesome and very sweet phone.
i dont' want to dwell on these negative things... let's just say the delinquent is on my naughty list and i can't talk to him because i'd say/do something that i regret; Maryland is STUPID. and oh yeah, i'm STUPID for losing my awesome and very sweet phone. also, phone insurance companies are STUPID. but they work. so you keep your head down and just barrel through the stupid. it will save you $250 dollars.
i kind of wish that i'd had a real wedding. well, mostly just the party part. you know, the reception. mostly because i'd love to do some goofy wedding dance like this:
my question is, how on earth do you go through TWELVE boxes of pop-tarts in three weeks? you'd have to have between 2 and 3 a day.... i guess it's plausible. just not ethical. especially when they are not YOUR pop-tarts. they belong to the son of the lady whose house you are supposed to be watching/caring for while she's gone for six weeks. you pissant little putz.
i was so just royally miffed about the whole "my house sitter really screwed me over" business that the day that i came home, i couldn't get to sleep for the life of me because every atom of my being was livid. i ended up finally falling asleep that night and ended up taking a 4-hour angry-nap.
your mother would not approve.
so at the end of the day today, i had on thick black eyeliner, and i'd straightened my hair and put on a punky shirt and my hubby's plaid lazy pants. why? let's just say i listened to a LOT of Avril Lavigne today.
like, a LOT.
Dear Inhabitants of The Greater DC area:
I try to be nice and decent to you. I open doors for many of you; men, women and children alike. I say "yes ma'am" and "yes sir" and so on. I let people in when i'm on the freeway. I smile at everyone, I try to go out of my way to be friendly or to make people laugh.
So cut me a fucking break and be nice to me every now and then. Because, damn. Maryland, you're MEAN!
That is all,
So i walked out of the Ladies' room in a hispanic supermarket, and this dude asks me if there are any other women in there, as they need to get back to the ladder i just passed, back up into the ceiling and back to work. i tell him i don't mind checking for him. i waltz into the Loo and let out a loud "HELLLOOOUUUU....LADIES?!!" to which i hear him laughing. and it kind of made my day.
well, that and the Meerkats i saw later while i was at the zoo.
and the pregnant goat that i pet. i felt the baby's heartbeat. kind of extremely awesome.
i spent about an hour today watching Michael Grimm Videos like this one:
it's true. i'm insanely jealous.
also, i've discovered that these past few months i've started forgetting how to spell simple words. words like "which". earlier in this blog, i spelled the word "time" like this: "him". what is wrong with me? all my brain are shutting down.
time to go see the neurologist again!!
so THIS is what it's like when i try to make myself write. also, when i've had too much riesling. whoops.
alright. well. maybe next time i'll write while i'm still sober. tee hee!!
oh, by the way. this nerve condition that i have definitely has some silver linings. my random goosebump patches offer me endless visual entertainment, and sometimes i'm so dizzy that it makes me nauseated for hours on end so i can't eat anything... which is great news for my jeans. those poor jeans, they've been working so hard this year. the last time i wore this particular pair that i speak of was 2 years ago. we're talking pre-spawning. and i was about 20 pounds lighter back then. i think i've put holes in the butt/crotch of every pair of jeans that i own since i found that i could force them back on my body. oh well. peek-a-boo. at least my panties are cute.
also, on a slightly related note, i really need to make sure that the curtains are CLOSED before i do a 1920's Flapper-girl inspired sexy dance for my husband. at least i was wearing my bathrobe which covers.... well, i guess it covers everything.
well nevermind then. let 'em look.
Love, Laughs, and Rubber Duck-filled Bubble Baths.