Tallulah has gas.
Ima guess it's because of her antibiotics, unless she's ordering takeout while I'm at work, which I would not put past her. Last night, I was trying to read before bed and she was in there, turning my room into her toot suite.
My gassy girl turns 8 tomorrow. EIGHT. How can that be, already? She gots a little just teensy bit of white on her muzzle, but she's doing that as sort of a reverse ombre look. She's doing it on purpose. It's like when the Captain & Tennille said they intentionally backed away from the public eye. Okay, Toni. It wasn't that we were all sick of looking at your mushroom cut. Do that to me one more time.
I forgot that The Captain is available now. What'm I here wasting my time talking to YOU for?
Also, tomorrow is my party, my I'm Gonna Die Alone party. My coworker Fewks came to my desk in a lather yesterday. "I just looked at your evite. FORTY people are coming? How's there gonna be room?"
He was all worried.
"Fewks, I don't live in some one-room Unibomber hut. In fact, I have three pretty empty rooms. If you get crowded, you're welcome to go chill in one of those."
Fewks also told me that the other day he wandered into the kitchen and said to his wife, "Wow, you smell good. Is that a new perfume?"
"I bought new kitchen cleanser," she said.
That Casanova. "Sayyyyyy, you dab a little Soft Scrub behind your ears? Get over here."
"You know the scent of Comet drives me mad. Call in sick today."
Anyway, I have my food and drinks all boughten. I have decorations. Now I just need the people.
You might show me your steeple, too, if it's worth a look.
See? Here I am, asking for steeple pics. Sad. I gotta call The Captain pronto. Toot suite. Ned, with whom I speak occasionally and--oh LET me tell you about my humiliation with Ned.
Yes, the humiliation with Ned. Our landlord is setting Ned up with a new lease on life, a new Juneless lease, and Ned and I were discussing it and the fact that my brick is in his yard (don't ask). (Okay, see, years ago, my grandmother's house burned down. She was long dead, but it was still sad that the house was gone. When I was next in town, I went to the lot where her house had been, hoping to find any memento. "Everyone's been there already," my mother said. "They took anything they could find of hers."
I stood in what was now a field, thinking of the times Gramma had sent me to the back yard to look under leaves of plants in her garden, because fairies would be there. Which is an excellent way to get rid of a kid for awhile. Anyway, a butterfly flew right in front of me and landed on a brick, a Saginaw brick, that used to line her garden. THAT brick is in Ned's back yard.)
Anyway, since we were on the line, there, the internet line, and I love it when people say interweb. Since we were on the interweb, I said to Ned, "Oh, and I'm having a fundraiser, this Dresscember thing." I sent him the link. Except really? What I sent him by mistake? Was this Etsy page of vintage engagement rings I'd been perusing listlessly.
He did not reply.
While I was telling you this story, I spotted this...
Ever since I been living here, I've put cat food up on this window, and it never occurred to Tallulah to try to get to it. Edsel's taller, though, and it's just dawned on him to try. I feel like there's trouble in my hills.
Id better get to work. One of the women I work with, but who works in another department and who I don't know that well, but hovers around my age, emailed me to see if I wanted to go to another pop-up dance tonight, and if this COLD isn't worse, I just might. Yes, I have caught ANOTHER COLD, which I'm sure I won't mention ever again.
Also, if we know about it in advance, how is it a pop-up?