January 31st, 2008

The Winchesters look disgusted

Last day of the first month of 2008

 LJ ate two posts yesterday.  Two LONG ones.  That brasses me off on a level previously only held by people who pull out in front of me in heavy traffic.

Anyway.  I thought Monday sucked out loud.  I can say that now, having perspective, and I know unequivocally and beyond a shadow of a doubt that yes, indeed, Monday did suck.

I got a raging headache from eating things I know that I shoudn't.  NO MORE DEVIATIONS.  NO sugar.  I don't care if people say I'm weird or not.  'Eff 'em and feed 'em fish heads,' my sweetly eloquent husband says.

BIL's father died.  He was a sweet man.  We're going to Denver on Sunday for the funeral.  It's a 16 hour drive round trip, or $1600 in airfare.  We drive.  Be back Tuesday.

And when did I get to the age that I go to more funerals than weddings?  Seriously.  I take it back.  I WANT to buy blenders and sit through wooden readings of 1 Cornthians 13.  Please.  

My week has been consumed with trying to sell this house or making decisions on the other one.  I swear if the flooring lady calls ONE MORE TIME, I will end her.  She's old, too.  I could totally take her.  BAM.  Just a clothesline and an elbow drop, and she's done.  (I'm kidding.  Sorta.  Mostly.)

I made videos of the interior rooms of the old house, more for me and the boys than for anyone else, but if I get ambitious, I might post them.  Gotta keep the stalkers happy.  *waves at the stalkers*

Playwrighting.  Arriving late and leaving early and not contibuting while you're there is not going to get a play written.  (It's a fabulous premise this semester, but I'm not writing it.  Completely fabulous, and could be flipping hysterical...  Still not writing it.  There was some action on Google docs yesterday, so that's encouraging.)

Caliga.  Still adore Caliga.  Still.  Though, Pansy's getting so very tired of being a captive.  I think she's going to make her move soon.  I hope she lives.  She wants to play with the new vampire friend!  And hug on Cormac.  What a sweetheart.  He doesn't even know it, which is, I think, the best part.  Lots of scenes going on right now.  Super fun.  *Huggles the people*

As for Michael, his life is so sweet and perfect that I find myself JEALOUS OF MY OWN FICTIONAL CHARACTER.  

Clearly, I need therapy.  Will I go?  No, for I am too busy freaking out about picking out cabinet pulls for the house.  Somebody shoot me, please.  Or maybe just come to Amarillo and help.  I'll buy you lunch and keep you entertained while you're here.

I was supposed to meet with Steph today.  It snowed three inches last night.  I hate driving on snow. (Celeste, Jessica, Mallory and Vicky can call me a wimp.  I'm not an excellent driver when there's NO white stuff all over.)  It was 65 earlier this week and now it's freezing.  That always makes my body freak out. Pick a temperature, y'all.  Either one.  I'm fine with either.

Gotta get the munchkins up for school.  Darn it.  I have a cute kid story, too.  Maybe later.

Ethan=Little Draco

Cute Kid Story - Bible style

(Our story takes place as we were driving home from church last night.   Ethan, the seven year-old, was chattering non-stop, as he is want to do.  He's telling us about his bible story lesson.  One of Jesus' "pear bulls.")

Me.  Parable?

Ethan.  That's what I said.

Me.  Of course.  My mistake.

Ethan.   (Chatter chatter chatter)... and the taxpayer only prayed for himself.

Nolan.  Tax collector?

Ethan.  Yeah, maybe.

Nolan.  I think I'm right.

Ethan.  We'll google it when we get home.  (SO my child)

Nolan.  (sighs heavily, remains silent) And then what happened?

Ethan.  The pharmacist knew how to pray.  He was humiliated.

Me.  (through fits of laughter)  The Pharisee?  He was Humble?

Ethan.  Pharisee, pharmacist.  Is there a difference?

Nolan.  (looks at me)  A little bit.


At the end of it, I think we got him set straight, but I may have liked his version better.  :D