This weekend, I was telling Ned the fascinating story of how once I took Faithful Reader Laurie to the train station, and have I mentioned what riveting date I must be? And, because who could get enough of that story, I found it on my blog to send to him.
Turned out, it's a pretty boring post, but I found one from a few days later, in which I am telling you, the beleaguered reader, about how I was gonna plant a climbing rose. I wrote, "I have been waiting for months, because for the zone I live in, which is the danger zone and I've taken the highway to it, you plant your climbing roses in January."
Well. That line struck me as funny. I sat here, and I guffawed, and I chortled, and I giggled, and had to lie my head on the desk, and I wonder if possibly I could be the least-likable person alive on planet Earth.
And eventually I'll stop blogging about blogging, but I also wanted to mention that Ned and I were at Target yesterday.
The end.
No!
We were at Target, throwing down and partayying and raising the roof because the roof, the roof, the roof was on fire, and we saw a picture of Avril Lavigne while we were backing it up like we just didn't care. "I read your blog the other day," said Ned, "and what's Avril Lavigne done?"
Do you know it took me three hours to realize Ned had read my blog? He doesn't READ my blog. "Wait. Why were you reading my blog?" I asked, three hours later like we'd sat in silence all that time. Ned got a new smartphone this week, see, and he decided the first thing he wanted to look at at on it was my blog.
Now, see. Maybe that doesn't seem romantic to you, but that about killed me.
In other news, I pretty much spent the weekend eating, which combined with how I can't work out, does not at all mean that I am starting to look like Violet in Willie Wonka.
In case you wondered if Ooompa-Loompas disturb me, yes. Yes, they do.
On Saturday, I had tea with my friend The Other June, and we had 72 teensy sandwiches, and cookies, and scones with clotted cream, which is everyone's favorite heart-healthy treat.
We stopped at my favorite store that has a Kitler, and Hitler kitty refused to look at me. I have shown him approx. 79 times on this blog now, and maybe he's sick of all the recognition.
nein! hittlur kittee not look at gurl.
Also, I wore really good shoes, which complement my litter box. That clutch is from Dick Whitman. It's made from recycled candy wrappers, and yes it IS cool.
The first person to mention my tattoo, which I've now shown 45859394 times, gets you know what from my you know where.
If that weren't enough, later that evening, Ned and I went to an Italian restaurant, where we each got, you know, lots of Italian food. "Good Lord, why'd we eat so much?" I wondered.
"You wanna go to the dessert place?" asked Ned.
"Of course!"
Oompa, loompa, doopity doo.
Ned eats dessert to forget that there is an office poking into his head.
The dessert place we went to was decorated (is that the word? I guess "designed" is fancier) by my friend The Nester, and thank goodness I linked to her. Because she doesn't get nine hundred thousand two million and fourteen visitors a minute or anything. That group over there fascinated us. They were so...employable. We decided bible study. That's what they were doing. They certainly weren't gathering to buy drugs.
And because ooohh, can't you see, food is the drug for me, after eating everything possible, we decided to go for a long walk. Off a short pier. We just happened to stroll past the midcentury modern store where the cute owner may or may not dwell, and I am pleased to announce that Ned took this blurry picture, and IT'S MY PHONE, NOT ME.
Then yesterday we got up and ate more food.
Marty Martin and Kay decided we should all watch Grey Gardens, so we did it up like rich people with crustless sandwiches and scones and so forth.
And then also, they got dressed up and we didn't. Because I didn't know were were gonna. Besides, what could I fit into at this juncture?
Turns out? Everyone hated Grey Gardens except me, and they all got mad I didn't warn them, but what's to warn? I LOVE that movie!
After, Ned and I went to the Mellow Mushroom and ate.
So that sums up my weekend. Faithful Reader Carol sent me 900 more books, so I have MY entertainment all planned out. When I'm not reading, I thought I might rustle me up some treats. Little smackerel of something. This and that to nosh on.
Good gravy.
Did someone say "gravy"?
