Today I overslept because I stayed up so late last night, bawling and being somber. I basically slapped some flesh-colored putty on my face, threw on some clothes (including pants from the ‘dirty’ pile, god help me) and raced out the door. I made it to work on time, however I have chipped Mood nail polish, and yesterday I completely chipped the polish off my two ‘pointer fingers’, so they are naked. Strangely, my thumbs must be warmer than the rest of my fingers because the other nails are purple. So my fingers go blue-naked-bluish purple-purple-dark purple. It’s like my hands are having an acid trip.
I am wearing a brand new powder pink T-shirt (only because it was handy) and wouldn’t you know it, I already spilled a drop of Diet Coke on my chest, so it’s already got a mark on it. Figures.
This week, the ‘rentals are going to Some Dakota State for some unknown reason. This means that we must watch their dogs at their house, which is roughly 13 miles away from our home. Before we had our own house, this was great. It was like spending two weeks at a spa. They live in a gorgeous home in a gorgeous neighborhood. It was such a vacation for us from our little shoebox apartment. I’d come home from work, lay in the Jacuzzi for an hour watching the news. Then I’d mosey upstairs and grill up dinner on their grill and eat on their deck overlooking their huge landscaped yard. Then I’d pop a movie in and watch it on their obscenely huge television. Then I’d feel the insane urge to vote Republican, talk about “them homosexuals” and spend enormous amounts of credit on Lancome’ makeup. Then possibly club a small seal pup and skin it myself on the ‘natural’ adobe tumbled stone patio, feeling much like Martha Stewart and make myself a coat. While drinking a Cosmopolitan.
However, now that we have our own home, it’s harder to want to stay in someone else’s home, even though it’s so lovely and has so many bathrooms (compared to our one cramped bathroom). Plus, we miss our cats, even though I’m quite certain that Tilly would eat us if we happened to fall down dead someday. So now we split the difference. Esteban stays there one night and I stay there the next. But now, his parents have started experimenting with their bed. No, not in the way you’re thinking! Sheesh. First, they have a waterbed and they don’t fill it all the way up, which means that my ample hinder bottoms out like the Titanic. Secondly, they have it set to 800 degrees, even in July, so I always have dreams of, for example, being a shrimp on a barby being basted with butter. That’s not as nice as it sounds. They also have these fucked up space age pillows. There are the barley pillows, which have this Amish quality but still feel like you’re sleeping on a sack of grain. And then there’s the Silly-Putty pillows. I have no idea what they are made of but when you put your head on them, your head sinks down into the pillow and actually leaves an indent for roughly a minute after you remove it. Thus immobilizing your head all night. You can also press the pillows onto the comic pages of your newspaper and stretch Dilberts head into all sorts of wacky fun. They’ve also now added a feather bed to the Bed O’Restless Nights, which is basically just like the pillow in that your entire body is stuck in whatever position you fall into. It’s actually an aerobic workout to move in that bed. You feel like a turtle stuck on your back. The effect is exactly like sleeping in a shallow cookie pan filled with hot bread dough.
I cannot sleep at their house, so I made Esteban sleep there last night. He came home last night at 3:00 A.M. He couldn’t sleep. That must be pretty bad if he actually got up in the middle of the night and drove 20 minutes to come home and sleep. So now we must drive three times a day to let their dogs out, lest they cover June’s Casa Immaculatta with poo.
Grrrrr.
Last night, while driving, I saw three men standing on a street corner with signs and placards. ‘Repent!’ one said in large letters. Another said ‘R U SAVED?’ The third said ‘B Born Agian in Jesus! Beleive and U Recieve Eternal Heaven ‘
I can only imagine the services that this sect might have. Perhaps they’d recite the ‘R Father Who R’t N Heaven’. Maybe they’d sing ‘Joy 2 the World’. It’s Salvation Lite.
It’s like the Church of the Deity Formerly Known as God.
Last night while I was playing volleyball, I went to take a hit off my inhaler after a particularly intense volley. Little did I realize, a couple of pieces of lint had lodged themselves into the chamber of the inhaler, thus when I inhaled, I sucked in a bunch of Kleenex pieces into my lungs.
As much as Kimberly-Clark wants you to believe that Kleenex is good for the soul, let me tell you, sucking it up into your throat will make your eyes water, make you cough uncontrollably and almost vomit. Boy, let me tell you, when you’re puking into the sand on the side of the court while both teams wait for you to either walk it off or die already, you do not maintain your dignity. I kept hoarking and spitting into the sand. I believe that this was some sort of retribution for the fact that I was playing barefoot last night and that’s not good for your arches or Achilles Tendon or anything. It was payback. So I kept spitting off to the sides and then burying it so no one (especially me) would step in my linty spitwads. I’m trying to resist making a ‘litter box’ analogy here, but it’s not easy. Let’s just say that I looked the epitome of ‘cool’ last night, and leave it at that.
Or maybe it was the Buddy Christ’s vengeance when I laughed at the Pilgrims with the misspelled signs standing on the street corner.
Vengense is mine sez da Lord.
Have you Seen These?
2001-06-28 Is you is or is you ain’t my Savior?
2001-06-27 Mattel introduces Slutty ‘Ho Barbie!
2001-06-26 More Fart humor at Casa Weetabix
2001-06-26 Poet-Collab: Tea Poem
2001-06-25 – SUBLIMINAL {new} MESSAGES {bra} REVEALED {needed}!!!
2001-06-25 – Monkey Bars 1, Small Child 0, Weetabix -342
