Saturday, August 04, 2007
So true...
Do you know what you call those who use towels and never wash them, eat meals and never do the dishes, sit in rooms they never clean, and are entertained till they drop? If you have just answered, "A house guest," you're wrong because I have just described my kid.
I haven't trusted polls since I read that 62% of women had affairs during their lunch hour. I've never met a woman in my life who would give up lunch for sex.
I never leaf through a copy of National Geographic without realizing how lucky we are to live in a society where it is traditional to wear clothes.
One of the reasons I quite going to the gym was that I've exercised with women so thin that buzzards followed them to their cars.
My kid always perceived the bathroom as a place where you wait it out until all the groceries are unloaded from the car.
My theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?
No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Map? We don't need no stinkin' map!
The number one thing that I have found out this weekend, is that the best laid plans are not always the best plans.
My fellow partner in crime, Sonja has spent the better part of this weekend laughing at me. I have spent the better part of this weekend discovering (to my own horror) that I am quite possibly as neurotic as her; just in my own personal way.
Random pieces of human hair not connected to a head, hit an all time high on her EEEWW-o-meter. Does not bother me.
Poking a bait hook from a crab ring through a frozen fish's eyeball, shot my EEEWW-o-meter into the red zone. She almost fell off the dock laughing and wishing she hadn't forgotten her camera in the car.
Sometime things happen for a reason. I had in my own anal way, planned this weekend down to the last possible minute. I awoke on Saturday morning at six a.m. I was packed and ready to go by seven. I called Sonja.
She answered on the fourth ring, yawning. WHAT?!?! What do you mean you're not up yet? Oh, you had a late night call. (She's a volunteer fire fighter) Ok. I can give her that.
But eventually, 2.75 hours behind schedule, we hit the road. And it's been a crap shoot ever since. She likes to just go where the wind will take us. I like to vacation with a guidebook gripped in one hand and a map with itinerary viced in the other. But since she was driving, I had no choice but to go along for the ride. I didn't even have a map. I thought for a while there that I was going to develop nervous hives for lack of structure in our game plan.
But here I am. Writing this from a hotel room, even though we ( I ) planned on camping, and enjoying a cup of coffee out of a real coffee pot. My plans were not such as these.
But somehow I'm not as freaked out as I was yesterday. Dare I say I could be relaxing? Today, Sonja asked me what was on the agenda. What?! I get an agenda? I think she wasn't quite awake when she spoke. I'm sure she will let me know what the agenda will be....about 10 seconds before we plunge head first into some new crazy thing.
Hell, who knows? We have yet to come across any dead bodies, burning buildings, people with broken down cars, flat tires, sinking ships, or robberies; but the day is still young.
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