This is one of those days where I have no idea what Ima blog about. What I'm saying to you is, prepare to be deeply bored.
Here's Ned at lunch the other day. Some days we both come home at lunch. Some days we actually have lunch. And Dear Ned: We put that candle holder on the record player 10 months ago. Do you think we might get to hanging it on the wall soon?
Ned and I differ about our neatness. He gets up every Saturday and sweeps the whole house in its entirety, and won't let me do it because he said he'll just have to go behind me and do it all over again. He also makes the bed every morning, which I would not do.
But newspapers and mail and pictures that need hanging and things like that, he can literally leave lying around for years. It drives me berserk. I am forever sneaking old newspapers into the recycling when he's not looking. And he'd really say, "Hey! Don't recycle that Greensboro News & Record from March 11! I wanted to read that!"
Ned gets annoyed with me because I don't wash every dish thoroughly before I put it in the dishwasher, to which I say WHY HAVE A DISHWASHER THEN?
"Look at this!" he'll say, disgusted. "This plate is a mess!" There will be one hint, just a memory, really, of something on that plate and Ned will be all, "I'll just have to put this back in the dishwasher again if you don't clean this" and then he'll get a SCRUB BRUSH and make the thing so clean you could do surgery on it, THEN he puts it in the dishwasher.
On the other hand, it would never occur to him to Windex the bathroom mirror if his life depended on it.
So, we differ. But we complement each other's styles, really, so that's good.
"The 'For Lease' sign is gone from the yard," Ned just announced to me. You know those idiots across the street who made all the noise, who I called Jimmy and John because they ordered takeout every single night?
Gone. Kicked out, I'd assume. Because we're old people, Ned and I convinced ourselves they were selling the drugs, because people would run up and run back to their cars. I know all old people think every young person is selling drugs.
Anyway, this is a nice neighborhood, and has a neighborhood association, so those dastardly kids didn't last long. They left a couch and chair in the yard when they moved, then drove up later and put graffiti on the chairs just to be spiteful. Ned saw them. Damn hippie drug dealers.
I saw our neighbor walk over--old guy, too--and right the furniture so the graffiti didn't show, and then the kids came and dumped MORE furniture. What a couple of jerks.
But that drama ended, and to tell you the truth, they were pretty quiet, there, at the end and I hadn't minded them till my neighborhood looked like the Bronx with that darn tagged furniture. I guess this is the nightmare shit you hear about when you rent your house. People always love to tell you the nightmare stories.
"Oh, you're pregnant? Let me tell you what happened to my sister. She gave birth to a full-grown ostrich!"
Why do people think that's considerate?
So. Anyway. New neighbors coming soon. Further reports as developments warrant.
In other news, one of the Alexes at work is taking pottery and she made me this pretty cup in my new favorite color. Isn't it cute? That ostrich-feather kitten clock is from Griff, whose birthday it is today. I'm sorry to tell you I found a shrimp-shaped pinata for him and last night we hung it over his desk. We figure he'll be grumpy about it. He keeps a golf club at work, I am not kidding, and he can knock it down with that.
I guess that's all I have to tell you. Attached please find a photo of my cleavage and Ned and me out to dinner the other night. We like to go to this hotel restaurant, where we had our controversial first date, and order appetizers and eat outside. That night we got crab cakes with almond butter and also a tomato plate that was delicious. Then we got two kinds of mousse: salted caramel, because caramel isn't allowed to be unsalted anymore, and dark chocolate. Mother of god. Delicious.
Our first date was not at all controversial. That's a line from Say Anything. Ned doesn't even remember that line from that movie, but he still calls it our controversial first date now.
Oh, and here's a photo of Ned out with Naughty Pro, Slutty Pancakes, Bitchy Resting Face Alex and her husband, and also with her back to us is the wife of The Guy Who Sits Next to Me. Sometimes people get mad at me: "You just SAID MY NAME. You didn't give me a blog name!"
People are so persnickety. That was a fun night, though, and there were food trucks and I got a delicious burrito with no cilantro in it.
All right, I guess I'd better go to work, as I am wont to do. I told you everything and nothing, as I am also wont to do.