Oh, sexy Internets! I wish I had witty and wonderful things to share with you, but this weekend? This weekend has sucked the life blood out of me in a way I imagine Edward eventually gets around to doing to Bella in those Twilight books that, mark my words like the mark of the beast, I remain steadfast in my refusal to read any more of. In a way, it's fitting I only read through book number two (bear with me, Twilight lovahs, for I'm going for a bad joke in three, two, one...) because they were crappy!
(p.s. - Internets? be careful searching the Internets for 'rim shots.' seriously. you'll thank me.)
As I was saying before I decided to toss out some new material I've been working on (which KILLED in the Midwest, btw!), this weekend has sucked the life blood out of me, which is really amazing when you consider the only time I ever really got off the couch and left the place was to spend the bulk of Saturday crammed into elementary school gymnasiums to watch my sons play basketball. Do you want to know how many times a person can sit around and watch the same episodes of Ace of Cakes on the Food Network? Suffice to say it's A LOT! When everyone else in my life one days leaves me, I know that the fine hooligans at Charm City Cakes will be loyal because I've watched them make a giant hamburger cake 29 times in the last two weeks.
As I still need to say, here's how I see my life lately: my couch (or bed or mini or hospital or bookstore or school gymnasium) is essentially Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs and me? I'm a young Dr. Erica Hahn down in the pit, rubbing lotion on my skin (which reminds me, I need to add lotion to my Target list...) and blubbering on about how I want my mommy. When I'm stuck in a pit in the basement of some dude who wants to make a pretty suit out of me (or on your couch or bed or mini or hospital or bookstore or school gymnasium), not much is going on in my life. At least not until Jodie Foster busts in without backup and gets my sorry ass ("Oh, oh wait. Was she a great big fat person?") dragged out of there, and until I get dragged out of there, I've only got a couple options - try to get that damn poodle Precious to grab the bone so I can yank her down into the pit (or couch or bed or mini or hospital or bookstore or school gymnasium) with me and work out a plan to play on Buffalo Bill's emotions, or give you a big old post about nothing.
Look what you get!
Are you confused now? I'm am. I should have stuck with the Twilight material.
This post is really going downhill. I should get back to the gist of where I wanted it to go when I teased you with the title of it - talking dirty! I want to talk about....
Remember a couple of months ago when I told you about the delicious irony that is my Tool Man and his sad way with home improvement projects, specifically where caulk is involved? I know very few (aka - none) of you were clamoring for proof of just how unwieldly my guy is with his tool(s) (probably because - high fives! - many of you were joining me by giggling at the word caulk), but this afternoon, after briefly escaping the pit, I was driving up my street and was about halfway here when I noticed something odd on my front steps. "What's that?!" I asked Bono, who was singing to me in the mini. "What is that white stuff all over the front of my house? And why can I see it so glaringly from more than 200 feet away?! Bono, WHY??"
Bono didn't answer because he has a new album to promote (not to be biased, but my pretend husband and his friends cranked out a good one), so when I got inside, I stepped out the front door and discovered my Tool Man had been playing with (his) caulk again (blame Seth, my inner 14 year old boy for that previous parenthetical insert...)!
PEOPLE!! What my Tool Man did is a travesty! Want to see?
Brace yourselves! In fact, find someone nearby to hold -
Oh, that's not so bad, you say? You've seen worse, you say? When have you been in my bathroom, and seen the caulk massacre Tool Man did up there a few years ago, I ask? The one he promised to fix when I started hyperventilating when I say it, but now, whoops! Too late!
I know, I know. It's caulk. It's outdoors. It's not a perfect science. Bear in mind that I noticed this from more than 200 feet away! Through the barrier of a small shrubbery (notice how it all ties into the title of this post now? clever, I know! )! While Bono was singing sweet nothings to me!
OK, well then, if that didn't terrify you, how about this? Try not to scream -
Through the barrier of a small shrubbery, you ask? Yes, which perhaps explains the tiny twig that appears to have been forever fossilized to the side of my house now. I'm not suggesting you click on either of these photos to enlarge them so you can properly CSI them, but if you do, I hope you've not eaten recently. I don't even know what's going on around here. All I know my Tool Man did this secretly so as not to give me the opportunity to talk him out of it, and that this further digs into my scary perfectionist tendencies and twists the knife. This doesn't appear to be the type of thing you just paint over and make pretty come spring, does it? Not that I'd trust my Tool Man with a paint brush at this rate, based on this.
Now, Bono, perhaps...
Where am I going with all this? Nowhere. In fact, if you read this far, forgive me for just Buffalo Bill'ing you ("That still doesn't make any sense to me..." you mutter)("Me, either," I say). I thank you for sticking it out. And since we're talking about sticking it out and caulk and taking human skin and making suits out of it (wha?!), let me leave you with one final thing -
My sons were so excited to get these two balls to balance that they wanted me to take a picture to freeze this fabulous moment in time. Their faces flush with the glow of accomplishment, I didn't feel it fair to point out that the bucket and conveniently placed plastic wall behind it made calling this 'balanced' a bit of a stretch. So BALLS! YEAH!!
P.S. Pathology came back late Friday afternoon on the lump surgeons removed from my Dad last Thursday. Not cancerous! Raise your hands in the air like you don't care!
P.S.S. My thanks to all of you who commented on the previous posts about my Dad. In light of this post, I extend my most sincere thanks (or apologies) to those who remarked how delighted and thankful they were that I am (was...)(hmmm...) a writer!
Labels: come on Precious I got a yummy yummy snack for ya