This is the first chance I've had to talk to you all weekend, as I have been work work working, then Ned-ing. When he came to get me at NINE-THIRTY last night, because I wasn't done slaving till then, I was huge-haired and in a robe.
"I'm readier than I look. Want some wine while you wait?" I stomped off irritatedly, closing the electronic version of that statistics book on my computer.
"...Yes," said Ned, looking distinctly horrified. I'm unsure if he's seen Work Hair till now. I must touch it or twist it nervously or something because if I am harried (bah!), the hair gets even larger than normal. On a really bad work day, I can look like I touched one of those balls at the science museum.
Anyway, lemme catch you up on my weekend. Because what's more interesting than that??
On Thursday morning, which technically is not remotely the weekend, although you'd never know that at Party Central over here in my pants. Did you ever have some idiot guy say that to you in high school? "Hey, Dave, do you know where any parties are this weekend?" "There's a party in my pants! Everyone's comin'! Heh."
Please tell me guys said this to you and I am not the only person to garner comments like that. Tell me I am not the Party in My Pants Muse. Thank you.
MY POINT IS, and you'd better cancel your plans if I'm this far into my post and we haven't even gotten past THURSDAY MORNING yet, I took my car to get it fixed, finally. The tires have been bald for quite some time. I have Uncle Fester tires. As I drove to the fix-it place®, I drove through a school zone, and I had JUST FORMED THE THOUGHT, "I'd better slow down" when the effing effing effing blue lights came up behind me.
Is there a more disturbing feeling? Especially with that party going on in my pants. I knew I was doomed.
And here's what I have to say. Kids need to learn to SPEED UP and NOT GET HIT. This us-slowing-down thing mollycoddles them. Plus, I was only going 41 in a 25, which, come on. Forty-one would not maim anyone that bad.
When I got to work, I told this story to anyone who'd listen and several people who'd have rather not. As Ned would say, I totally had on my "Ask Me About My Ticket" t-shirt. "I used to be cute enough to get OUT of tickets," I said 900 times.
And do you know no one. Not one person. Said, "You're still cute enough to get out of a ticket." I'd say that line, and crickets. Finally I told the story to Ned and he said, "You're still cute enough to get out of a ticket" but really, he kind of has to say that. It's in the Boyfriend Guide to Not Summoning Attitude June.
The good news is, everyone helped with giving me rides to and from work, and driving me to lunch and basically catering to me like I'm Miss Piggy or something. Jane West got me Friday morning and had coffee and sweet rolls in her car, for god's sake. Also, Jane West has seat warmers, and let me tell you what. That there is a lovely sensation, the seat warmer. I mean, that seat had its work cut out for it, what with my can't-work-out girth.
On Friday, if I'd gotten enough work done, I was gonna go to drag queen bingo with Ned. I'd say "emphasis on drag," but really he seemed to think that'd be sort of fun. I like how Ned is all manly with his sports and math-y brain but then he's down with the queens.
However, we did not go to drag queen bingo. Because Ned was drunk. You know how it is. Six p.m. and you often find yourself three sheets. It's inevitable, really.
The thing is, Ned had been at a funeral. A guy he went to college with? That guy's wife died. Forty-six years old. Son of a BITCH life is unfair sometimes. So Ned attended the funeral and ended up seeing a whole bunch of people he hadn't seen since college, in aught nine or whenever he graduated.
See. That joke would have been funny had aught nine not been three years ago. I was kind of trying to pretend he graduated in 1909, see, is the thing. And, oh forget it.
MY POINT IS, I was still at work and my cell rang. "WHERE ARE YOU?" said Ned, a trifle enthusiastically. "I JUST SAW A BUNCH OF PEOPLE, AND IT WAS REALLY GOOD TO SEE THEM, AND I'M NOT GONNA LIE. WE WENT RIGHT FROM THE CHURCH TO A BAR. OH, IT WAS GOOD TO SEE EVERYONE." Seriously, I didn't even need my phone. I could've just turned toward his apartment, if I knew directions, and I could have heard him through the wind.
I mean. I've seen Ned have him the fancy beer or the red wine, and every once in awhile he'll say, "I'd better not have another, or you'll have me on your hands." I really never knew what he meant. Till, you know, now.
The funeral had been really sad, of course (Ned stood in line to see his friend, whose wife had just died, and he heard himself say, "Hey! How's it going!" when he got up there. He said in his mind he was all, YOU ASSHOLE. WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?, but you know. These things can be awkward) then seeing everyone was kind of bittersweet and I'm just saying to you. Had some cute drunk emo Ned on my hands.
The first thing I did was get him some food, and then it was too late for drag queen bingo, so because he was still toasty, I did the next indicated step.
I took him to the Twilight movie.
Am I absolutely the worst human ever? He was all drunk, "Yeah! I'll go!" and I think the drugs wore off somewhere around the first time we saw Dakota Fanning holding her eyes wide open, which seems to be her one acting technique in that movie. "You want me to fill you in on what's happened up till this movie?" I asked Ned, who seemed a little stunned. "No. Not at all," he said. I have asked Ned to write a guest post reviewing the fine film, and I expect we may read the F word a lot.
Look, I know. It was a cruel trick. But I got my movie in, and I never, ever have to acknowledge Twilight again or my embarrassing interest in it. Unless they come out with another book.
Yesterday I took a break from WORKING ALL DAY ALL THE TIME to see Violet. The firemen had said I could visit any time, and I finally got the nerve to do it. Because my fear was I'd get there and be all GIVE HER BACK TO ME!!!
I brought her this toy, which she seemed to enjoy quite a bit, then we went inside and she had 49595949393 other toys. "People just leave stuff on the doorknob for her. Toys, food--we got enough food to last all year," said Cute Fireman #1.
She really did look about twice the size she was when I took her there, although I don't know that one can tell from my fine photography. And man, does she look more like a Beagle now.
She kind of knows how to sit (i.e., she sits when she feels like it), but they taught her to speak before she gets a treat, and when she was bouncing OFF THE WALLS HELLO BORDER COLLIE, they said, "Do you want a time out?" which means she has to go to the kitchen by herslf, and boy, she understood that. vyelitt sit now and be gud. even tho her nayme not viylett stoopit assmuncher juune.
Can you call a girl "assmuncher"? Is it really more an insult aimed at men? Violet is young. She'll learn.
Nine thousand toys and her favorite seems to be an empty water bottle.
She's going to be in the Christmas parade December 6, and Ned and I are going. Ned was supposed to come with me to see Violet, but he woke up feeling...tired. He apologized after for standing me up, and I said, "I was really okay being alone with a roomful of firemen" and he said it had occurred to him I might be okay with that.
But really I only had eyes for Violet. Not literally. I didn't bring her anyone's eyeballs, as that would be wierd.
Today I am (wait for it) working, but later now-sober Ned and I are going to a movie that sounds disturbing and weird. So all is right with the world. Tune in tomorrow and I might tell you about the party in my pans.
Pans! I meant to say "pants" but just cracked self up. Yep. Everything IS right with the world.
