I Am Not Going to Panic, I Swear

Oh my goodness, it's almost here. Thanksgiving that is. All year my husband tells all his "friends" to come over. Sigh.

To make a long story short; I don't really like people all that much. My husband is a people person. I guess one would have to be if they were a bartender. Or at least a good one, anyway. * Don't get me wrong. I have certain people that I enjoy being around. I just don't enjoy having to be nice to people. And the only person that I do that for is my husband and my son. Oh, and maybe for my best friend Sonja, if I feel generous, (hee hee). But fortunately 99.99% of the people who come to our house to stuff there gullets are pretty cool people.

Oh, I guess I better explain a bit. Every year we have what my husband has Christened to be "Stragglers Thanksgiving." At least for the last 6 years. We (he) invites anyone who has no other place to go; single people, or just people we know that have families far away. We also get the folks who have the family thing and just stop by afterwards for beer, fire and relaxing conversation.

Last year we had about forty-two people swing through the driveway, and a total of five dogs running around the back yard, three were ours. And since we have a house that is approximately 965 sq ft. we have tents outside. We string a t.v. outside for football (can't have turkey day without it), and this year are having three fire-pit-type-things going.

So getting ready for turkey day, we got two turkeys; one in the roaster, one in the BBQ, and one big-assed ham in the slow cooker, among all the other trimmings. Last year, I think I got to suck on the bone in the ham (quit snickering Sonja, but I'm not kidding) by the time I got our there. Vultures. Just kidding. Mostly..

So basically, all year I get to be persnickety about people; i.e: not always being nice, polite for no reason, and I make up for it by inviting my entire friggin' family, and virtual strangers to my home once a year, where I especially dislike company.**

A bitch some might call me. But only behind my back. And they are partly right. I really don't like people. Or maybe they just don't like me, whatever. But I do like entertaining. Weird. Maybe I should just stay in the kitchen. But with my own t.v. of course. Gotta have football. Too bad we always have to watch the Cowboys.

*disclaimer: I love everyone who comes to our house, I'm just crazy and in freakout mode when I'm entertaining.

**I'm not 100% comfortable until at least 80% of the guests are more that 50% sloshed. You do the math.

Eek! Eek! The sky is falling! The sky is falling!

Sorry people for not writing lately, but boy oh boy has it been an interesting few days. I'm gonna make this a short one, for I have tons to do, and unfortunately none of it is fun.

We have been having massive rain for the last few days, in fact we received over two inches yesterday alone. On Sunday, my bathroom ceiling collapsed due to the leak that we have had for over four years that our landlord pretty much ignored. So you can imagine how much fun we've been having.

The next day the truck started having issues, so we were driving around a Chevy Classic loaner car with big blue Hertz magnets on the side announcing to everyone who read it that yes, in fact it is a loaner car. Ugly and sad. Two days. Guess what? The issues of course magically disappeared when the mechanic drove it for two days. Sigh... $82 bucks wasted.

Now we are off to parent teacher conferences, mortgage broker interviews (I'm getting the heck outta this house), haircuts and if I find the time make dinner later. Enjoy your days...

Do You Remember Reading Buddies?

As a couple there is something to be said about reading the newspaper together. First of all, for some reason, whatever section the other person is reading always looks more interesting than the one you're reading. Even if you've already read it, you still want to read it again.

"I didn't realize how good that travel section looked til I saw you thumbing through it like that. What is that picture there--Portugal?"

I love the fact that we go through the real estate section of every Sunday paper and look at pictures of places that we have no intention or possibility of ever buying, but we still check for price fluctuations.

"Oh look at this--that lakefront property just went down to five bazillion, as oppposed to the unreasonable six-two they were asking last month. They're obviously weakening."

Some things in the paper are better not to share. But you don't know which ones they are until it's too late. My husband does this a lot.

He's reading an article about this woman in Houston who was fired seemingly unfairly, from a very good job. He's reading, and quietly, to himself, he goes, "Hmm...tsk...geez."

I go, "What?"

"Hm? Oh nothing, just this article. This woman, in Houston she had a great job, and they let her go because they discovered that years ago she was a prostitute...just kind of sad."

I say the required, "Hmm...tsk...geez."

Then about five minutes go by and for some reason it's stuck in my head. And looking at him like it's his fault, "What is it with prostitutes?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the whole thing with prostututes and men--I just don't get it."

Now see, when you are couple, each person represents their gender. You are the flag bearer for the whole team. And if any member of your team, anywhere in the world, past or present, does anything to offend, you have to answer for it. (Woman Law)

"No it has nothing to do with prostitutes, Babe, I'm just saying, it's kinda sad...You know, here's a woman, got her life together and everything...and...then...hey...uh...what's that picture there, Portugal?" Then he tried to get me to read the Travel section together and tries to get off the whole Houston thing.

But there are after shocks. (Woman Law)

Hours later, we're eating, and I turned to him, "Are you chewing loudly?"

"No."

"Well, you're bugging me."

So, surprisingly he figures out my womanly thought process: eating chicken, BBQ sauce, Texas--"The prostitute lady? That's what you're upset about?"

I say, "I just don't get it."

Ah,well the complexity of our thought process is not for man to figure out. It's there job to just deal with it.