Well, a baby shower.
But lots of shopping.
Parts of it frustrating,
parts of it exhilarating.
I think my amazing-super-deluxe-wrinkle-defeating eye cream is making my eyes dry and irritated.
That is SO irritating.
(it is "-ating" day here. bite me.)
Seriously, though, why the fuck can't they make that shit hypo-allergenic or something??
So tonight I was upstairs watching "Anchorman" with my friend, Becky, when the doorbell rang.
So then, my eager 9-year old step son races down the stairs,
calls out, "It's the missionaries!"
and just AFTER I respond with, "Don't answer it!"
he opens the door, but just a crack.
I am right behind him, so I open it the rest of the way and smile,
rather self-conscious because I'm not only in pjs and BRALESS, but the shirt I'm wearing happens to be my "i'm going to dye my hair black in a white t-shirt" shirt.
So it's on the so-white-it-shines side of trashy.
So I smile, they introduce themselves, and ask my name.
I state it.
Boy #1 launches into his cheerful little spiel, as the snow weightlessly and soundlessly falls on and around them.
He gets about 3--maybe 4--words out and I cut him off.
"Yes, I'm a member."
and for some reason I put a period there (full-stop for you british types)
and in my head I blinked, then rushed onward (outloud)
"But I'm not remotely interested anymore. Stay warm and have a great night!"
I begin closing the door, but the poor sweet thing barrels on:
"I know that this message is the truth--"
"Well, I know that it's NOT."
Door closed, porch light off.
AND HE WAS STILL TALKING.
Fuck you, buddy.
I was polite, with a smile, but very firm.
I didn't WANT to be that door-in-the-face slammer, I really didn't.
I remember hearing all the stories of that as a kid, and just thinking it was rude.
And, honestly, they are good people with good intentions.
And in Maine, most people I knew respected them--and me, actually.
I know...I know...it sounds really strange now.
But I was a really good kid.
They don't tend to be so aggressive, in general, but I imagine the fact that I said I was a member made him react a little differently.
It was really fucking strange, though.
Maybe it was a sign from GOD.
I bought 3 things for my trip today:
1. a cute umbrella that folds up really small
2. the "France" version of the "best of europe" guidebook I bought when I wasn't sure which country/countries we would be visiting (by Rick Steves--an excellent resource, recommended by my best friend who has used several of his guides and found them to be accurate and helpful)
3. a french phrasebook--it's very small and organized well, so I figure it'll be handy for filling in the gaps of words/phrasing that I have forgotten, and vocabulary I never knew.
My french really isn't half bad.
I remember being told I have a pretty good accent, although after so much time, I'm not so sure.
Becky's father is fluent in french, and I just remembered one of the guys who'll be at the Super Bowl party tomorrow is a dual citizen of France and the U.S., so I can probably get both of them to spar with me a bit.
I can't believe how much of it I've forgotten, though.
Thank you all for your kind advice and suggestions, in the comments, by the way.
I really hope the Seahawks win...
step son is their #1 fan, true story.
It would be so damn cool for him to see that.
All that shopping and I forgot one key ingredient for one of the appetizers I'm taking to the party tomorrow, and BREAD.
Just what in the fuck is that all about??
I did get a snappy new messenger bag for school, though.
I've been using the same backpack for the gym and for school (I don't put clothes or shoes in it, just my binder with my workouts in it, my gloves, my mp3 player, my waterbottle, and maybe a book...ok, the point is: it's not stanky.)
It is, however, starting to really annoy the PISS out of me to have to switch books every day.
So finally I heard a crackle and a slight buzzing sound and looked up--
a flickering little 40 watt bulb hung crookedly over my head.
Say, why don't you get a second bag, dumbass?
And so I did.
The stupid part is that I really needed to get my boys new backpacks because one of them lost his, but the store didn't have small backpacks, just adult-sized ones.
And, believe you me, they'd look funny with one of those strapped on.
Hubby came home early yesterday, as I mentioned.
It was so fucking awesome to have him back.
And my hair looked FANTASTIC.
It has its own little idea of when it's going to behave and when it's going to flip me a rhetorical bird
(heh, did that even make sense??? Don't care. I like it.)
but last night, ooooeee!
I couldn't stop staring at myself.
Ok, not quite, but I was rather impressed by it.
I just wash and go, so it's not like I had anything to do with it.
Never got around to the dye job, either.
The baby shower was nice.
blah blah blah.
I think I'll go wash my face and brush your teeth
and get in bed.
Oh, wait, my point:
so hubby and I were having some sweet sweet lovin', when his brother (who lives here) got home.
He didn't know that C. was home,
so he was still expecting him to be gone until tomorrow.
We both park in the garage, so I bet it startled him at first to hear ME having definite sex with someone!
I got a bit of a kick out of it, actually.
This morning when I stumbled out of bed, he was just walking out of his bathroom, which is directly across the hall from our room, and I'm pretty sure he looked at me funny.
Fortunately, when I returned to bed after feeding the darlin' dumplings,
hubby was ready for round two and I made sure to say his name.
ok, ok, so he probably never REALLY thought it was anything other than what it really was, but I will ask him.
Because I bet his first thought was, "what the fuck?" even if it only lasted a second or two.
am I done TALKING yet???
Ok, smoke 'em if ya got 'em--
(and Steelers...either way it would be a great win.)