Awhile back, I purchased a new down comforter for our bed, but I had been putting off using it because I hate putting new duvets on thick comforters. It’s a lot of work when you’ve got a king size bed, you know? So we’ve been limping along with our little mostly empty down comforter which resembles a French crepe as opposed to the new one which more closely resembles a fine vanilla souffl’.
Neither culinary delight can I master. This should have been a warning right there.
Anyway, I was going to undertake the Herculean task of changing all the bed stuff and thought I’d do the hard thing first. Apparently, I had forgotten the little trick which makes stuffing that thing into the duvet much easier.
Here’s the Weetabix Living method: turn the duvet inside out and lay it atop the comforter. Reach into the duvet’s opening and grab each far corner in your tight little fists. With a helpful spouse or possibly your chin if your helpful spouse is busy sitting on his ass watching television, turn the duvet AROUND the comforter so that it is no longer inside out. Then close the duvet and prance merrily on your way, happy in the knowledge that you have a nice lovely night of sleep ahead of you.
Whereas here’s the method I chose last night: scowl at the cat that has lain down upon the comforter. Forget to turn the duvet inside out. Try stuffing the comforter into the hole, then try reaching up into the duvet to get the corners, past the comforter. Decide that this is like trying to put clothes on a cat. Decide that that is a good metaphor and I should write that down before I forget it. Mentally calculate all the poems and story ideas I have lost because I didn’t write them down immediately. Figure that I could have been on the Oprah’s book list by now, even though I hate the Oprah book list. Predict that if I DID get put on the Oprah book list, I’d probably go and have the dinner because I am a big hypocrite that way. Start to sweat. Decide that down comforters suck. Do a crazy shimmy trying to get the comforter to fall into the duvet on it’s own. Realize that the comforter is now a big solid lump in the duvet. Wish that I had followed Martha Stewart’s advice and made little ties in the corners to tie that damn thing in there so it would be straight and not shift around like Monica Lewinsky in a cigar store. Decide that joke would have been funny in, say, 1997. Swear. Swear creatively, invoking a few more colorful terms I learned from a drag queen in Key West. Shudder as fourth grade parochial school teacher does a few tumbles in his grave. Crawl into the duvet and straighten out the comforter. Almost step on cat in blindness. Finally shake out comforter. Arms hurt now. Realize that I’m really out of shape if making the damn bed makes my shoulder muscles ache. Fall down on the bed and recompose. Sweat profusely.
I have to make a correction. The lovely Carissa seemed a little upset with me when I mentioned that she did not tell me what her favorite entry was for my 200th ‘Best Of’ entry in time for my posting, so I neglected to add it. But I promised her I’d add it: Her favorite is the one that highlighted our trip to see Journey. It’s no coincidence that Carissa was a major player in that entry, I am certain.
Oh, and score one for literacy! A long time ago, Carissa and I went on a major shopping trip to Appleton, where I introduced her to the beguiling Machine Shed restaurant and the seductive Avenue clothing store . I also dragged her into the Barnes & Noble during that excursion as well, as it is my literary Mecca. It was her first time ever.
Carissa and I are very ying and yang. Aside from our gregarious personalities, we are complete opposites. It’s a wonder, really, how we get along so well, but we do. But one of Carissa’s ‘Opposite of Weetabix’ idiosyncrasies is that she does not like to read. In fact, she actually dislikes reading. I’m surprised, actually, that she even READ that entry on Journey, but I suspect that Pretty Penny gave her a preview and encouraged her to read it.
Anyway, she promised me that when B&N opened their new store that she would venture into one again UNDER HER OWN FREE WILL and possibly buy a book to read. She did. Not only did she purchase the first Harry Potter book (excellent choice) for herself, she also bought a fairly expensive book for her youngest daughter. For someone who is pretty much exclusively used to Mallwart prices, this was a big deal. Also, she mentioned that she was transfixed by the lovely journals they had and is thinking of starting a journal.
Soon’. Soon I will transmogrify her personality to become more and more like me!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Weetabix rubs her hands in power hungry glee!!
Actually, I’m just way impressed that I am such a good influence on her. See????? See???? I’m not a freak!!!!
I had another diary dream last night. This time I was in New York with Bfee and I told her that I didn’t recognize her because she signs guestbooks under the name ‘Trouble’.
Yeah. THAT’S why I wouldn’t know my internet friends when I saw them!
Oh, and how cool is she? She’s going to scout out a pair of Doc Marten shoe laces for me. She’s so damned cool!
Mwah!
